


So Many Words Unsaid

by mychakk



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Choices have consequences, Coming of Age, Do NOT copy to another website, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Molly is generally a saint but has baggage of her own, Romance, Sherlock has feelings but he is bad at them, Teenlock, Unilock, canon complaint but what exactly is canon?, kinda slow burn, lots of classic sherlolly tropes, never on the same page although trying hard to be, oblivious characters, past influencing present, pining and longing characters, self discovery, some tropes subversion, the type of slow burn that will make you want to hit your head on your desk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24961294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mychakk/pseuds/mychakk
Summary: John looked with disbelief from one of his daughter's godparents to the other. “I'm not believing anything either of you say or do ever again.” Or how John learnt the whole story of Sherlock and Molly: from their very first meeting to the recent events with a certain Eurus Holmes.Completely Canon Complaint. But what exactly is canon? Read and find out.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 48
Kudos: 117





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> AN This is my version of Sherlolly: A History trope. How I see them meeting for the first time, staying in each other's lives, going together through everything that life is throwing at them up to and beyond the canon events. I want it to be a Sherlolly story through and through.
> 
> At the same time, one of the challenges I set for myself is to not change a single thing from canon. Can I make it work? Can an established Sherlolly exist in the canon we know of? I think it’s possible. And so this is going to be my interpretation of the canon. 
> 
> I'd like to say thank you to **3seconds** who did the initial beta work on the first few chapters 2 years ago, her encouragement stopped me from throwing this whole idea away back then; and to **sincerelydayyy** for doing beta work on this chapter last week, smoothing my over-tweaking of the text and turning it into a readable one.
> 
> Also a shout-out to **vertual** whose courage to post her story _Partition_ , inspired me to work on this piece once again (and gave me enough courage to share it with you). 
> 
> All the remaining mistakes are on me, I'm not a native English speaker.

**Prologue**

_John learns there is more to Sherlock and Molly's past then he has ever suspected._

One can expect the unexpected if you are acquainted with the Holmes brothers long enough, of that John had no doubt. He _had_ lived through some of those things and even managed to tell a portion of them on his blog too. But nothing, _nothing,_ could have really prepared him for the reveal of the past twenty-four hours. Nor for the reveals that were to come afterwards. 

Unsurprisingly, the aforementioned events had taken their toll on John. Having been put in an old well with icy water a-and chained to the wall with small _bones_ laying around-- ah, yes. _That_ had been a bloody cherry on top of this godawful experience as a whole. Mazes with task-rooms as if it was taken from some kind of thriller movie; a death toll increasing with each puzzle; and the culmination! …the culmination. 

John swallowed and looked at his best friend on the other side of the back seat. The Consulting Detective was unusually quiet. Not that John could or did blame him. The revelations, the emotional upheaval, everything that had happened… It almost put John’s experience in the war to shame. 

He shivered. The blanket that the hospital had provided, while dry, wasn’t a very good cover for the scrubs he was currently wearing. He tightened it a bit more closely around himself to get a little warmer. He really couldn’t wait to be finally home, in his warm clothes, lying under his thick covers with his young, little daughter safe beside him. He was glad the hospital hadn’t wanted to keep him overnight for observations and that he and Sherlock had been pretty quickly proclaimed fit to go. Mycroft, who had met them at the hospital, promised a reunion with their loved ones at his residence and both men went with him without any protest, heading to the car the older Holmes provided. 

The journey, while tedious, was thankfully not a long one. All three of them were quiet, each man lost in their own heavy thoughts. John’s arms ached to hold his daughter. He needed to feel her comforting weight in them. Mycroft promised she had been and _was_ safe, and more importantly, on her way to meet them. John felt a deep feeling of longing to see her and keep her close. It had been too long since he saw her. Rosie had been staying with the Stamfords the day before yesterday. After the explosion at Baker Street Mycroft had made sure she was transported to the safest place he knew of. John couldn’t leave Sherlock at that crucial part of their latest quest for the truth about one Eurus Holmes and as a result had no choice but to trust the eldest Holmes to keep his baby girl safe. Now he just _needed_ to have her with him. 

The car finally slowed down as they pulled up to the familiar townhouse. All three men stirred and prepared themselves to get out. John saw Mycroft looking at his younger brother but Sherlock didn’t seem to notice, lost deep in his thoughts as he was. And yet, as they were leaving the car, John could still see his bruised and scratched hands trembling a little. 

The townhouse was pleasantly warm and surprisingly welcoming, clearly having been prepared in advance for their arrival. Mycroft took them to the drawing room and made them an offer of some strong drinks which John didn’t refuse. 

“Rooms have been prepared for you,” Mycroft said after he took a swift gulp of his brandy. “You can stay here as long as you require it.”

John looked up at this information, startled. He hadn’t planned to stay here at all. He opened his mouth to say so, but then Mycroft glanced at his younger brother intently and John felt suddenly torn. All he really wanted to do at the moment was to get Rosie and just go home, but with a pang of regret, he realised that Sherlock had no place of his own to go to anymore. He wasn’t sure how his best friend would take to staying with his brother and John felt he shouldn’t really leave him here on his own. At least not for this night. Sherlock had been unnaturally quiet and John really feared for him. He tried to find an opportunity to talk to him, but they were hardly ever alone, first with the paramedics in the ambulance that had taken them to the hospital and now with Mycroft. In a way he was glad. He wasn’t sure what he could say to his best friend or how to talk about it. It was all still so fresh…

“Will they be here soon?” Sherlock asked suddenly, looking up with piercing eyes to his brother. 

_They_? John wondered.

Mycroft looked back at his younger brother then checked his phone. “Yes. They’re close.”

Sherlock just nodded, his gaze once again straying somewhere to the side. 

“It’s… It’s going to be all right,” Mycroft offered unexpectedly. Uncertainly. 

“Is it?” Sherlock asked brokenly, not looking up. 

John’s heart hurt.

Another heavy silence fell upon the trio. Minutes dragged by slowly, one after the other. John sipped the whiskey slowly, relishing the feeling of warmth it brought him, even if he felt as if he was tasting ashes. He was sure it was a fabulous and ridiculously expensive whiskey, but at the moment… at the moment. He glanced at Sherlock quickly then looked away. His eyes drifted to the big grandfather clock in the corner. _How long before--_

A sound of a car stopping in front of the house echoed from outside. All three men looked to the front of the building and got up almost simultaneously. Mycroft led them to the main door, John hot on his heels, hoping to see his small daughter. The car was one of Mycroft’s typical black ones with its usual tinted windows. The door to the back seats opened and Mycroft, unexpectedly, hurried down to help the person inside. John blinked at this unusual display from the so called Iceman, then visibly startled seeing who came out of the car. 

It was Anthea. 

A heavily _pregnant_ Anthea. 

_What?_

Mycroft put his arm around his assistant, his other hand grasping her arm in support. Anthea looked into Mycroft’s face then put her hand on his cheek. John saw Mycroft’s eyes close at the gesture. It lasted less than a couple of seconds, yet John felt suddenly like the biggest voyeur in the world. The spell broke and both Mycroft and Anthea started on their way up the stairs, arms still around each other. They stopped briefly to speak with Sherlock quietly. 

John would have gawked at them longer but then someone else came out of the car, catching his attention. 

It was Lady Smallwood. 

John blinked. What _the hell_ was going on?

And then he heard _it_. That familiar cry. Without any conscious thought he was on his way to the car. He saw Lady Smallwood bend to retrieve something from the vehicle and the moment she did so, John’s whole world narrowed to the cranky bundle in her arms. In four big steps he was right beside the older woman, taking his dissatisfied daughter into his arms. His eyes locked with those of Lady Smallwood for a moment, and he just nodded to her in thanks, all choked up. She gave him a soft, understanding smile and turned toward the townhouse. Not that John noticed. His nose was already buried in his daughter’s locks, barely visible from the scarf and cap she was wearing. 

“Thank the Lord,” he gasped, breathing in the familiar scent.

A sob built in his throat and he took a couple of shaky breaths, hugging his precious Rosie fiercely. The girl started crying openly and John’s heart both soared and squeezed at this sound. She was alive. She was in his arms. She was here. He rocked her a little, shushing her in a choked up voice, then finally looked into her face.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he rasped in an emotional voice. She hiccuped then hugged him, burrowing her head in his neck. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he whispered. 

He would have stayed there with her in his arms, regardless of the cold air around him and time passing by, if not for the second car pulling up right next to the first one. 

A figure hurried past him to the car the moment it stopped. John looked up surprised, as Sherlock, with shaky, scratched and bruised hands, opened the door to the back seats, waiting anxiously for the person to come out. 

Molly. 

_Of course!_

Sherlock staggered a little at the sight of her in front of him, his grip on the car door tightening visibly. Yet, his eyes never strayed from her; he was watching her intensely, pleadingly, drinking her all in. 

But Molly just shot him a quick, hard stare and, just like Lady Smallwood had done minutes before, turned around and bent to pick up something from the car.

John found himself gawking once again at the unexpected sight before him. As Molly straightened up with practised ease, John saw a small toddler being held firmly in her arms. The child – a boy – was awake. Dark curly locks spilled from under the cap on his head as he looked around with big blue inquisitive eyes. Finally, he spotted Sherlock. 

“Daddy!” the toddler called, arms stretching in that universal demand of every child to be taken by a familiar and trusted adult. 

_What?!_ John’s eyes bulged out at this unexpected turn of events. 

There was a heavy silence as Sherlock and Molly gazed into each other eyes; searching, pleading, accusing, reassessing. The moment stretched, the air thickened and charged and John’s heartbeat accelerated as he stared at his two best friends. The boy in Molly’s arms wriggled and reached for Sherlock once more. 

“Molly,” Sherlock rasped finally. 

The woman looked down, her firm grip on the child tightening. 

“Please.” John had never heard Sherlock’s voice sound this small. 

“Daddy!” the boy called once more. “Mummy!” He wriggled even more violently, using his legs as well as his arms to try to set himself free from his mother’s hold. 

Molly sighed and looked up into Sherlock’s face bravely. A second passed and another, and then her grip loosened. Immediately, Sherlock’s arms shot up to catch the child into an embrace. 

“Daddy!” the toddler squealed. 

“Hello, William,” Sherlock rasped, a faint but genuine smile on his face. The boy – William – beamed. Sherlock hugged him, making the child giggle, then jostled him onto his hip, supporting him with one arm. 

His eyes locked with Molly’s once more. They stared at each other for a while, the child looking from one adult to the other, an unusual solemnity on his countenance as if he could feel the gravity of the moment. 

Sherlock’s gaze was penetrating as if speaking volumes to the woman in front of him. Molly stared right back, firmly, bravely, despite the tears pooling in her eyes. 

“Molly,” Sherlock repeated in that same small – pleading – voice and John’s heart squeezed at the raw emotions in it.

Molly’s breath hitched and she closed her eyes for a moment and then nodded faintly. 

With a pained groan Sherlock’s free arm shot toward her and crushed her to his side. With his head buried in her hair, Sherlock gasped and rocked slightly, the two people completely and firmly embraced in his arms.

“Daddy!” The boy threw his arms around his father’s neck, hugging him. 

Sherlock rasped and John realised he was speaking, murmuring like a mantra, over and over again. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” His voice was like nothing John had ever heard before. “It’s true. It’s _always_ been true. I _love_ you.”

Although she had just consented to being hugged, John could see how tense Molly was. Then slowly she sighed, as if letting a cleansing breath out, and gently slumped against Sherlock, all the tension leaving her. Sherlock’s breath hitched once more as his arm brought her even closer to him. Slowly, tentatively, Molly’s arms sneaked around Sherlock’s chest and suddenly, they were hugging so close, John couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the other started. 

“Um. Did you know that Sherlock and Molly are…” John started, and looked to the side, where Greg had just stopped next to him. 

Suddenly it hit John what exactly he was witnessing. Sherlock and Molly- _Sherlock and Molly_ \- two of the three godparents to his daughter, his very best friend and his, well, his second best friend, two of the closest people in his life, they- they- not only shared a far deeper relationship than anyone anticipated, they had a bloody kid together!

“John…?” Greg asked, concerned.

John felt a raw red hotness washing over him. Those two were supposed to be his best friends! Sherlock promised! The bloody git promised to not keep any more secrets from him! And Molly! Once again it was Moll-

“Are you planning to come inside?” Mycroft’s voice carried from the doorway. 

Sherlock and Molly didn’t seem to hear him as they were still locked in their fierce embrace, seeking and giving comfort to each other. 

John, on the other hand, was _furious_. 

“ _How_ \- how long has _this. been._ GOING _ON_?!” he growled at Mycroft with a dark scowl on his face. 

Rosie startled and wailed at the sudden shout from her father. 

This seemed to finally break Sherlock and Molly apart. Surprised, they looked up to the three men standing with the little girl nearby. Flushed, Molly made a jerky move as if to untangle herself from Sherlock, but he didn’t let her; his arm was still firmly around her waist, keeping her close to his side. 

“Oy, John,” Greg said as he came quickly to the angry man. “You’re scaring Rosie.” He took the crying girl into his arms. “Shush, princess, shush. Daddy’s not angry at you.”

John didn’t seem to hear him. “How. Long,” he repeated. 

Mycroft huffed. 

“Since we met.” It was Sherlock who answered. 

Molly gasped, looking up to him with wide eyes. “Sherlock…?”

He glanced at her briefly and nodded resolutely. 

“Really?” A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips as her eyes searched his face. He shot her an answering little smile and squeezed her to him briefly. 

John glared at them furiously. “Since. You. Met,” he repeated. “And _when_ exactly was that?”

Sherlock turned to look at him squarely in the face, adopting an air of nonchalance. “Hm, about twenty years ago.” 

“Bloody hell,” Greg said, Rosie still in his arms. 

John exploded. “And it was a secret all this time?”

“Yes,” Sherlock replied, not a note of remorse in his voice. 

John cussed severely. 

Mycroft sighed resignedly. 

Rosie still wailed.

“Well, let’s get inside so we can try to sort it _all_ out,” the elder Holmes said, leading them all into the townhouse. 

John took a deep calming breath.

It had better be the night for _all_ their secrets to be revealed or else!

Thankfully for him, it was. 

xxx

end of prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle your seat-belts, my lovelies, it's going to be a _bumpy ride!_
> 
> Reviews make my day! :)


	2. The Unexpected Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (18) and Molly (16) meet each other for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> First of all, thank you so much for your support, comments, kudos, bookmarks, I'm glad you are so excited to see this story! :) Hope I'll be able to meet your expectations :P  
> Special thanks to **3seconds** who did the initial beta work on this chapter 2 years ago, and to **Broadwaylover17** for doing beta work on this chapter last week, she improved it greatly with her comments and thanks to that I got more friendly with commas :P ;) All remaining mistakes are on me.  
> Finally, I hope I made it clear with tags and all that the story itself is the journey to the events described in prologue. And every journey has it beginning. So here it is. Happy reading!

Chapter One - The Unexpected Problem

_Sherlock (18) and Molly (16) meet each other for the first time._

The day had started just like any other. The sun was shining shyly from behind white fluffy clouds, birds chirped merrily all around the countryside, and a cool breeze rustled the leaves on the trees from time to time. Just a normal, regular summer day. 

Nothing, _nothing_ , could have predicted the event that was going to happen in the early afternoon on that ordinary Tuesday. The event that intertwined two lives inseparably. 

Molly had gotten up that fateful day around her usual time, feeling quite happy and content with her life. She prepared breakfast for her dad and herself, and then she got ready to leave for the day. 

While most teenage girls spend their summer on the beach, in the shops, chasing boys with friends, Molly preferred the quiet and comfort of the local library. Though the summer had just started, she was a regular visitor there, well known and liked by the librarians and other workers. She had always been drawn to books (ever since the discovery of her late mother’s collection), and one could usually find her with a thick tome in her hands. In recent years, she had especially been drawn to thick volumes, its pages filled with medical and science information. 

It was no surprise then, that on this particular day, she was, as usual, surrounded by a fair amount of dusty books while she sat in her regular spot in the library’s reading room. Happily engrossed in the world of medicine and science, she had no clue that her life was about to change drastically. 

It happened later in the afternoon, just after Molly had realised it was time for her to head home and prepare dinner for her father. She packed her stuff, picked one tome to read at home, and, with a cheery goodbye to the librarian, left the building. 

As Molly became absorbed in her thoughts about how to prepare dinner, she didn't pay any attention to her surroundings. Humming happily, she walked down the familiar path, totally oblivious to the rapid footsteps coming her way until--

"There you are!"

The call came from behind and she barely had any time to register it before a hand grabbed her arm and turned her around swiftly, bringing her face to face with the stranger. She blinked as two arms circled her waist, closing her in a tight embrace.

“Umff-” was all she managed to say as something landed squarely on her lips. 

Something soft.

And warm.

And- and--

Time halted. Sound faded. Everything around her melted away. 

The book she had been carrying fell to the ground beside her (not that she noticed). 

All she could see with her wide eyes, all she could focus on, was a blurry close up of a cheek and something captivatingly blue.

Stupefied by the sudden assault, she stood unmoving, completely shocked by the unexpected turn of events.

The soft, warm pressure didn't stop, however. Instead, a tingling sensation started at her lips and slowly spread over her body, a radiating heat consuming her. Her heartbeat accelerated as a realisation dawned on her.

_Oh. My. God!_

Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the pressure was gone. 

She blinked twice. 

Slowly, her hand moved to her still tingling lips.

She looked up at the person whose arms were still loosely curved around her in an embrace. It was a tall boy around her age. He had a mop of black curls atop his head and the most strikingly blue eyes Molly had ever seen. He stared intently at her for a second or two, his eyes searching hers. Then, he blinked and, with a swift move, turned his head to the side. A frown appeared on his brow as his eyes searched the area. All the while, his arms _still_ remained loosely hooked around her. Then, his face brightened, and he grinned back at her. 

Her knees wobbled. 

“Thank you for your assistance,” the boy said, his voice a deep rumbling baritone. “I couldn't have avoided him otherwise!” 

Molly's stomach churned. “A-avoided?” she asked stupidly. 

The boy nodded. “Yes, some nasty guy I'm sure is stealing from Mrs. Carter,” he explained, releasing her from his arms. “He almost caught me as I tried to find the evidence.”

A sinking feeling entered Molly’s gut as one thought whirled through her mind. “T-that was my _f-first kiss_!” she squeaked.

The boy blinked. “Oh? Was it?” He shrugged slightly. “Mine as well.”

Molly's eyes prickled. _But- but- how… how could he…_

The boy in front of her frowned in confusion. “Was that something important to you?”

Molly sucked in a breath and bristled. “Something- something important?!" she squeaked indignantly, sending the boy a glare. “It's a _first kiss_! Of _course_ it's something important! It's supposed to be special! Shared with the person y-you l-love! Not- not something stolen by a-a stranger!” Her voice wobbled a little at the end. 

A second passed. 

“Well, then, let me introduce myself.” The boy grinned at her suddenly. “Sherlock Holmes, at your service, m'lady.” And he gave a slight bow. _The git!_

Molly glowered at this impertinent boy. “That's- that's not the point! You- you ass!” she screeched and, with a dignified huff turned around, stormed off, distancing herself from that- that creep. 

Once she was a couple of metres away, her eyes started to blur, then the tears overflowed and with a sniff Molly ran toward her home. 

xxx

Sherlock stood on the street, feeling - frankly speaking - stupefied and a little bemused by the unexpectedly emotional display from the girl he had just met. Well yeah, maybe he shouldn't have accosted her the way he did, but was it _really_ such a big deal? True, it _was_ a first kiss, but it was still _just_ a kiss-- 

The memory of his lips tingling ( _pleasantly_!) as they met her soft and velvety ones flashed in his mind... 

Anyway! 

It wasn’t _really_ his fault that he had to act. Time was of the essence! The pursuer had nearly caught up to him! And who could honestly blame him for being _truly_ hard pressed to find a way out of his predicament? After all, he _was_ so _bored_ so far this summer! No surprise then, that when something interesting had caught his attention, he jumped at the occasion. Of course, he knew he shouldn't have been snooping around Mrs. Carter’s shop, but he sensed that something was off when he came by there yesterday. He just needed to find what it was. 

That errand boy Mrs. Carter had hired for the summer seemed suspicious, and Sherlock just needed evidence to prove his theory. It was the first intriguing thing that had happened this entire blasted summer, dammit! He really regretted promising Mummy that he'd stay at home during this break before he left for university. The summer couldn't be over soon enough.

And of course as he snooped, he ended up in trouble. It was his usual modus operandi, doing something not good and ending up in trouble. Not that he couldn’t get out of it as quickly as he got into it. He just sometimes needed additional _help_ with ‘the getting out part.’ 

He sought out that additional help this afternoon. As he was running from the pursuer (quite desperately at the time), one thought had suddenly popped into his mind:

_“People tend to avoid looking at other people when they are showing overt physical signs of affection.”_

If he implemented this idea, he just might lose his pursuer. But he needed someone to help him. And then, just as the thought arose, he saw _her_. She was perfect. And, without any further hesitation, he had executed his quick plan. And boy, was it a successful one! 

But now, as the girl was running away from him, he...found himself suddenly feeling a...twinge of something. With a frown, he looked down at the pavement, unsure, and-- 

There, on the ground, was a book. It must have been hers. He picked it up to get a closer look. 

**An Introduction to Pathology**

Fancy that. 

With a curious expression on his face, he looked in the direction the girl was heading. 

He had no clue who this girl was, but with this library book, he could quickly find out. With newly found excitement and resolve (and not a single twinge of boredom), he turned around and headed to the nearest building, the only library in the town. He toyed with the idea of sneaking around the librarian to get the information. He did enjoy the thrill of possibly being caught red handed after all, but then he saw the young woman behind the counter and decided to find a different way to collect his data. 

With a practised charm, he managed to get the librarian to divulge the name of the mysterious girl willingly. 

“Molly Hooper.” 

He smiled. 

With that knowledge, it was just a matter of time before he found out where she lived. 

After all, he had a book to return. 

xxx

The house was nothing special, just one of many found in this area. The garden was well kept, and there was a nice aroma coming from the open window. Someone was baking. 

Sherlock looked around the neighbourhood and realised he wasn’t that far away from his own house. Just over the meadow and to the right, a ten to fifteen minute walk on foot. _Hm, interesting,_ he thought to himself _._

With a bounce in his step, he walked down the paved path to the front door, then, with a decisive nod, he knocked. 

There was some commotion on the other side. Pans and plates being put away. A girl’s voice yelling, “I’ll get it!”. Sherlock could hear some footsteps soon after, then the door opened. And there she was. 

Molly Hooper. 

Eyes wide (big and brown, expressive), breath hitched (chest, _nice_ , rising and falling rapidly), and jaw dropping slightly (lips thin, but he knew empirically, _how smooth_ ); she stared openly at him. 

“Hello,” he said, smiling involuntarily at her astonished expression. “You seem to have lost a book when we ah, ran into each other earlier today.”

This seemed to shake her from her shock. 

She glowered. “ _Ran into_ each other?!” Her voice came out in a high pitch. “I did _not_ run into anyone, Mister!” she declared hotly. 

Sherlock’s smile only widened. “Hmm, that’s right, you just _ran_ _away_ from me.”

She huffed. “And you’re surprised?” Then she frowned at him. “How do you know where I live?”

Sherlock smirked. “It wasn’t that difficult to find once I knew your name.”

Molly’s frown only deepened. “I never told you my name,” she said flatly. 

“No,” he agreed, “but you did leave something behind and it was enough of a clue for me to find out the rest,” he finished smugly.

Her eyebrow shot up. “A clue? What are you? A detective?”

His grin stretched further. “Maybe.”

She glared. “Bobbies don't a-accost random people. Or steal f-first kisses!” she told him fiercely.

“Who said I want to work for the constabulary?” he asked in a light tone. 

She blinked. “So you don’t want to be a detective?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I enjoy solving puzzles. Just not sure I want to work with the police,” he admitted, surprising himself with his openness. 

“So a private one then?” She gave him an unimpressed look.

Sherlock grimaced. “No. The _only_ one.”

She snorted. “That might be difficult to accomplish. There are _many_ other detectives around the world.”

Sherlock glowered at her. “Do you want your book or not?” 

“Of course I do!” she replied hotly, cheeks flushed prettily. 

“Fine! Here.” He shoved it into her hands. 

She took it. 

They glared at each other. 

There was a shuffle coming from the house behind her, startling them. A chair was moved, then some footsteps followed.

“Erm.” Molly hugged the book to her chest. “Th-thank you.”

“Yes.” Sherlock flustered slightly. “Um, yeah, you’re welcome.”

There was a pause as they stared at each other once more. 

“Well...” Molly moved as if to close the door as she spoke.

“Nice topic,” Sherlock blurted hastily, pointing to the book. _What was he doing?!_

“Oh, well,” she stumbled, looking somewhere to the side. “Thank you. I find it fascinating.”

“Death?” he asked, interested.

Molly shrugged, one hand coming to her face to put an imaginary lock of hair behind her ear. A nervous tick. “Well, yes, and how everything works after it.”

He nodded. “It’s useful knowledge to have when one deals with crime,” he said, his lips lifting ever so slightly. 

She looked up at him, confused. “What? I-I don’t plan to work with crime.” 

“Well, I do,” he said, leaning a little closer to her. 

“And?” she asked warily and a little defensively.

His mouth formed a smirk as he finished. “You should work with me!”

“What?!” she shrieked. “Not a chance!” And with that she slammed the door in his face. 

Sherlock blinked, then a genuine smile slowly crept on his face. 

Oh, she _will._

xxx

“Who was that?” Molly’s father called to her as he stood in the door to the living room. 

Molly almost shrieked from the fright, and then she frowned. “No one, Dad,” she huffed. 

Her father looked at her with inquisitive eyes. “Really?” His voice sounded slightly amused. 

“Yes!” she repeated firmly, her book hugged tightly to her chest.

Her father just nodded knowingly. “Just… I thought I heard a boy,” he said. 

Molly squeaked, and her father chuckled. 

“Daaad!” she said, cheeks flushing bright pink. “It really was no one important. I’m not going to see him ever again,” she proclaimed.

“So it _was_ a boy?” her dad asked her slyly. 

“Honestly.” Molly just huffed, and, with her nose up in the air, she headed up to her room. She hoped her father did not notice the hot flush spreading from her cheeks and down her neck. She would have _nothing_ to do with that insufferable boy ever again!

Famous last words. 

xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, let me know what you think. :)
> 
> Also I think I need to start a trope list and cross out the tropes I tackle in each chapter :P Here we have: first meeting, first kiss, first argument, oh, and teenlock of course! :)
> 
> Review please :)


	3. The Rising Detectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly solve their very first case together which leads to a tentative but genuine friendship for them and their families.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here is the next part :)  
> Huge Thank you to **Anarfea** for doing beta work on this chapter! <3 Go shoo check her works too! :)

Chapter Two - The Rising Detectives

_Sherlock and Molly solve their very first case together which leads to a tentative but genuine friendship for them and their families._

Molly honestly hadn’t planned on ever seeing, let alone talking to, the boy she had met so abruptly that summer. He, on the other hand, had other ideas. 

The very next day after their initial meeting, he found her in the library at her regular spot and promptly invited himself to sit right beside her. Molly was utterly unimpressed. An argument therefore commenced, and, as a result, they ended up being thrown out of the library. Molly had never been more humiliated in her life! The nerve of that boy! With a huff, she tried to storm off, but he wouldn’t leave her alone. Fed up with his attitude, she screamed at him to let her be and once again found herself running away from him.

A week passed and she hadn’t seen him since then. Nor had she been to the library in all that time. She was bored out of her mind.

On top of that, her cat went missing. He was an older, experienced tomcat who explored the area regularly, but always got back home before midnight. Yet, it had been three days since she saw him last, and she’d started to get really worried. He had never stayed away this long from home. Never!

The situation with her cat made her think more and more about the boy she had met a week ago. Although he was an arse who stole her- her _first kiss,_ he was still kind enough to bring her the library book, preventing her from getting in trouble at the library (even if he _had_ gotten her into trouble there the very next day!). While she still didn't know how he had found out who she was and where she lived, she was fairly impressed he had managed to do so in the first place, and in such a short time. The boy said something about solving puzzles and, since the situation with her cat kept her awake at night, she had started to contemplate the idea of asking him for help. She didn't have many friends here (more like none) and couldn’t imagine going to anyone else with this dilemma. After all, it was just a cat. But not to her. Her cat was her best friend. She needed to find him, to know what had happened to him.

She’d give it one more night.

xxx

The next day she decided she no longer had a choice. With a heavy heart, she prepared herself for the visit. The boy said his name was Holmes, and she knew of a couple with that surname, living about 20 minutes on foot from her house. Since it was the only clue to his identity and his possible whereabouts, she decided to pay them a visit first. Around the midday, armed with a dozen homemade muffins, she set out to find help.

The pathway to the Holmeses was truly a picturesque one, leading through a blooming meadow, then next to a sparkling stream and finally cutting through the trees on the edge of the forest. Not that Molly noticed any of the beauty. The closer she got to her destination, the more anxious she became. And what she saw when she got there didn’t help her either. Before her eyes appeared a large red cottage (probably even listed!) with many windows, neatly trimmed grass and a well kept garden.

She was intimidated. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe Hugo will come home--

“Oh, hello there! Can I help you?”

Molly startled.

A very beautiful woman came out from the left corner of the cottage, calling to her in greeting. She had garden gloves on and was holding a watering can. Her eyes were piercing and ...captivatingly blue. But her smile was warm.

“Um,” Molly blushed. “I- um- i-is there a-- that is to say, I-I came to see a boy, tall with curly hair. Um- Sh-Sherlock?”

The woman blinked then stared at her intensely for a moment. Then her face brightened in a beatific smile.

“Oh, of course, dear,” she said. “Just wait a moment.” Then she turned her head toward the cottage and yelled toward one of the open windows. “William, there is a girl to see you!”

Molly’s eyes widened as a hot bright red blush bloomed on her face.

The woman turned back and gave her an amused smile. “I’ll make sure he comes down to see you,” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes, and went inside.

Molly wished she had stayed home.

xxx

Sherlock was bored out of his mind. He looked dejectedly at the lab equipment around his room, but all his experiments had already been completed. There was nothing interesting to do around here. On top of that, since that latest encounter with the girl ( _Molly!_ ) at the library, he hadn’t been to the town at all. He scowled and flopped into his bed. He didn’t want to think about her.

He stared at the ceiling above him, but the cracks were all too familiar. Dear Lord, he was bored! He couldn’t wait for the freedom he’d have once the academic year finally started!

He heard his mother outside, talking to someone, but he tuned her out. The errand boy Mrs. Carter had hired, had disappeared after the chase a week ago, and, although Sherlock had made more inquiries about him, no one seemed to know him around here. The whole situation was curious, but Sherlock’s leads had dried up. There really was nothing else to do.

“William!” his mother called from outside, and he cringed. He hated his given name. So normal, so ordinary. He much more preferred his middle one. He all but planned to ignore his mater familias when her last sentence registered in his mind.

“There is a girl to see you!”

With a sudden realisation he sat up and looked toward his window. Could it-- A flash of fiery brown eyes and flowing shiny hair ( _and smooth, cushy lips!_ ) entered his mind. Scrambling to his feet, he hurried out his room. What was she doing--

With a frightening speed he ran down the stairs only to meet his smirking mother at the bottom. “Well, William, she’s waiting outside, although she expects to meet _Sherlock._ ”

“I prefer going by my middle name, you know that,” he told her with a scowl.

“Hm,” she nodded knowingly, “just behave, love. She seems nice.”

He all but ignored her and headed toward the entrance. He stopped before it, exhaled, and, adopting a bored look, opened the door widely.

Before him, standing sheepishly and completely unsure of herself, stood the girl he had just met a week ago. She had a plate of neatly stacked, clearly homemade muffins and looked like she wanted to be anywhere else than here. Sherlock grinned. The sweet looking confections were obviously some form of appeasement. They looked delicious.

Molly finally spotted him standing in the doorway and, after taking a deep breath, marched purposefully toward him.

He waited for her, watching and gathering as much information about her as he could. He frowned. Something was wrong. Her hair was smoothed overtly, as if a nervous hand had run over it again and again in a nervous tick, and the nail of her right thumb was visibly chewed. She was worried.

Molly stopped in front of him, her gaze flicking from side to side.

Sherlock cleared his throat expectantly.

She squeaked.

A slow smile started blooming on his face.

She must have noticed it, for she scowled, then squared her shoulders and looked back at him. “So, _William_?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

His smile widened even more so. “William Sherlock Scott Holmes.” She blinked at his introduction. “That’s my full name. But I go by Sherlock.”

“Oh.” She paused, looked down then back into his eyes. “Mary Louise Hooper. But I go by Molly,” she said earnestly.

Sherlock’s smile turned into a full one.

She returned it with a shy one of her own.

“So what brings you here?” Sherlock asked.

Her whole stance immediately sagged. He was right, she _was_ worried over something. “W-well,” she started, “um, you see, my… my cat is missing.”

It was Sherlock’s turn to blink. “Your… cat.”

“Yes,” she nodded empathetically. “He’s this old, experienced tomcat and he’s never missed a meal, and now he’s been missing for four days. I… I just…”

“And you want me to… what? Find it?” He looked at her with narrowed eyes.

Molly flushed. “I-I… I didn’t know what else to do…” she admitted quietly.

Sherlock had a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Molly, you do realise that there might not be a happy ending to this, right?” He asked her with a gentleness he found surprising to himself.

“I know!” Molly shot back, fiercely. “I _have_ been checking r-roads and the ravines but he’s nowhere to be found! I just… I want to know what has h-happened to him. And where he might be. Will you help me?” She finished earnestly, her big brown eyes pleading with his.

There was a strange ….squeeze in his chest area at the sight. Well, damn, how was he supposed to resist such bright brown eyes?!

“You said you like solving puzzles,” Molly told him all of a sudden, her eyes blazing, chin up. “Well, here is one then. What has happened to my cat and where exactly is he?”

Sherlock frowned at her and all the squeezing feelings inside his chest gave rise to a hot indignation. A challenge, then? Very well. With a decisive nod he accepted her request.

“We will find out.”

xxx

Armed with three of Molly’s muffins (they _were_ delicious, just like he had predicted; he had finished the first one with a fiendish glee, knowing that probably not a single one of the bunch left with his delighted mother would make it till the evening, let alone till the weekend and Mycroft’s return from London), Sherlock asked Molly to take him to Hugo’s regular spots. Molly argued she had checked all of them already, but Sherlock needed to see the possible crime sites for himself.

So, bantering with each other, they looked around the neighbourhood and on the roads for any sign of Molly’s cat--but with no results whatsoever. Molly was disheartened, but still adamant something must have happened to him and that he needed to be found.

They were on their way home with nothing to show for their efforts, as the hour grew late and it was time for Molly to get back to prepare dinner. Sherlock knew they needed more clues. There was something fishy about the disappearance of the cat, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was exactly. And then as he wandered aimlessly back from Molly’s house he saw _it_.

An old, handmade flyer about a missing dog.

It was as if a gate opened in his mind. There had been this child asking about her cat around the town square a couple of weeks ago and the elderly man calling his dog near his house last Monday, this handmade flyer on the three, and now Molly’s cat. All just within the beginning of the summer.

There were pets going missing all around!

Sherlock jumped with glee. This was fantastic! A true puzzle to solve!

He had to get back to Molly right away. It was late already, but he didn’t care. They should start working on this new clue he had found immediately. With a spring in his step he turned back toward Molly’s house.

Molly was taking the rubbish out when she spotted him heading to her house purposefully.

“Sherlock…? What are you doing back here?”

“Molly!” Sherlock all but ran up to her. “There is something fishy going on here with the disappearance of your cat!”

“What?” She asked, stupefied.

Sherlock grinned at her. “Pets are going missing right and left. Someone must be behind this.”

“You mean someone took Hugo?” Molly gasped aghast.

Sherlock nodded. “Come on, time is of the essence.” He took her wrist and tugged.

Molly resisted. “But where? And it’s getting late.” She looked back toward her home.

Sherlock stopped and scowled. “Do you want to find your cat or not?” He asked pointedly.

Molly scowled back at him. “Of course I do!”

“Then come on.” Sherlock tugged at her wrist one more time.

“Molly, what’s going on?”

Both of them looked up to the doorway. Neither had heard the door opening and someone else coming outside to stand with them.

Molly blushed and Sherlock’s hand released hers immediately. “Oh hi, Dad,” she said, “um, it’s nothing. I just- we-“ she stammered.

Sherlock decided to take the matters into his own hands. “Hello, Mr Hooper, I’m Sherlock Holmes. I’m helping Molly find her cat and I think I know where he might be. We need to go and-“

“You do?” Molly turned to look at him. “You know where he is? You didn’t tell me that!”

Sherlock looked down sheepishly. “Um, well, I think I know where we might find information and, well…”

“So you _don’t_ know anything.” Molly’s shoulders slumped.

Sherlock both bristled and felt the urge to make her feel better. Weird. “But I know there is something off going on here and that’s a start. We will find him,” he insisted.

“What do you think you know, m’boy?” Molly’s dad asked suddenly.

Sherlock looked back at him. “There have been a lot of pets going missing around here recently. I remember a couple of people looking for theirs. I think we need to talk with them and see what has happened.”

Mr. Hooper nodded. “It sounds reasonable. But it is getting late and some of the people may not be willing to talk to teenagers at this hour. Maybe it would be better to go and see them in the morning?” He suggested gently.

“But Dad, it’s Hugo… I… I don’t want to wait another day to find him,” Molly pleaded suddenly.

“He’s a clever cat, he’ll manage,” her father said simply.

Molly’s shoulders slumped once more. “Okay.”

Sherlock scowled but realised he had no say in the matter. He could go and talk with the people on his own, but Mr. Hooper _was_ right. Not everyone wanted to spare time in indulging teenagers no matter the seriousness of the situation. Going in the morning might be the best option.

“I’ll be here first thing in the morning and we’ll start our investigation right away,” he promised Molly. “We’ll find what’s going on and get your cat back.”

“You sure?” She looked at him hopefully.

He nodded resolutely.

“Thank you.” She gave him a soft, shy smile, her cheeks blushing slightly.

Sherlock’s heart did a flip and he smiled back. “See ya tomorrow,” he called and left right away, lest his heart start doing some other acrobatics.

xxx

As promised, Sherlock met Molly the next day, and they started their inquiries, speaking with the few people whose pets had disappeared recently. They began with those they were able to locate around the town and neighbourhood, but fairly quickly their pool of witnesses, as Sherlock called them, widened to many more. Sherlock was right, Molly admitted. There was something off going on with the amount of missing pets.

And even more bizarre was that most of them were _returned_.

Not all of course, but a surprisingly large amount. One cat and one dog had met their end on a road and another dog hadn’t ever been found, but all of the rest animals had been returned to the owners after contacting a pet investigating team from a nearby town. They had reasonable prices, raving reviews and recommendations and lots of happy clients sending more clients their way.

Coincidence?

Sherlock thought not (“ _The universe is rarely so lazy, Molly!”_ ) and Molly started to agree with him the more they spoke with different people. Therefore, the very same afternoon, Sherlock and Molly took a bus to the town in question to the talk with the pet rescuing team.

They were greeted by a young woman, probably a few of years older than them, although it was hard to tell with the amount of make-up on her face. She was nice and friendly, though, and very sympathetic to Molly’s situation. She took the description of Hugo and helped them with filling in the form for a missing pet and the order for the team to have it found. The team even had the policy of getting paid _after_ the animal was returned to the owner. Molly was glad as she didn’t have the money to pay right away. Sherlock assured her he’d cover the cost if the needs arose but Molly was against it saying she had some savings at home, thank you very much.

“It seems all too good to be true, doesn’t it?” Molly asked once they had left the building with the team’s office and were crossing the road to the other side.

Sherlock nodded. “Very convenient for the client _and_ an impressive rate of happy conclusions.”

“You don’t think they are involved in the disappearances somehow?” Molly asked, biting her lip.

Sherlock frowned. “We need to find more information. The window of the office faced the side alley and it was open.” He started walking. “Come on, if we stand right under it we’ll be able to hear what she does or who she talks to.”

Molly looked back to the building and nodded.

They crossed the road once more and headed for the deserted alley.

“Won’t we look suspicious if we just stand here like this?” Molly asked looking around the entrance anxiously.

Sherlock followed her gaze and nodded. “You’re right. I’ll buy us some ice-cream and we can pretend to be a couple on a date adoring each other in a semi-secluded place.” He finished, looking for some change in his pocket. 

Molly flushed. “Um, o-okay.” She nodded.

Sherlock frowned. “Something’s wrong?”

“What?” Molly squeaked, her cheeks growing a becoming shade of pink. “No, why should it be?”

Sherlock’s frown deepened then his eyes grew wide and he smirked slowly at her. “Oh, I don’t know. You tell me.”

Molly’s eyes flashed and she turned from him with a huff, still visibly flustered. 

Sherlock’s smirk morphed into a smile as he stared at her upturned nose and determined chin. Rays of sunshine passed through her shiny brown hair as the ponytail swayed, highlighting the copper and orange hues. It looked soft and silky and-

He blinked; then frowned. “So, strawberry?” He asked abruptly, straightening a bit. 

“What?” Molly looked back at him.

“The ice-cream?” He gave her a pointed look.

“Oh.” It was Molly’s turn to smirk at him. “Actually, I prefer chocolate with nuts.”

Sherlock blinked. “Really? I would have sworn it would be some kind of fruity one.”

“Nope.” She smiled brightly.

“Damn, there is _always_ something.” He mumbled as he went to the nearest shop to pursue their order. 

Molly waited in front of the entrance to the alley, trying to look inconspicuous. Finally, Sherlock returned with chocolate ice-creams with nuts and they settled near the window with Molly leaning on the wall with her back and Sherlock looming over her as if they were whispering to each other while eating their sweet confection. This spot gave them the perfect opportunity to listen in on what was going on in the office next to them while looking fairly preoccupied with each other to any passing onlookers.

“Damn, I nearly forgot,” Sherlock whispered into her ear as he rummaged through his pocket with his free hand and came out with a Walkman.

“Is that a…?” Molly whispered back.

“Yup, a tape recorder.” Sherlock grinned at her.

“How did you know to bring one?” Molly asked him.

His grin turned smug. “I had a feeling something like that may come handy.”

“Clever.” Molly nodded and Sherlock shot her a proud smile.

They stayed close together, eating their ice-cream and listening as someone typed on the typewriter and moved some documents in the office above. Then finally, after roughly fifteen minutes, they heard a one-sided phone conversation. Sherlock quickly started the tape recorder.

“…new order for us. A tabby with lots of scars and half of its ear missing.”

“…”

“Oh, you do have it?” There was a satisfied glee in the voice. “Perfect.”

“…”

“The usual couple of days,” the woman replied, “I’ll contact you.”

“…”

“Best idea for a business you’ve ever had.” The woman laughed.

Sherlock and Molly looked at each other, Molly’s eyes wide with disbelief.

“You were right,” she said softly.

Sherlock nodded grimly. “A scam and money extortion. They are kidnapping the pets so the owners enlist their help in finding them.”

“That’s- that’s horrible!” Molly exclaimed. “People love their pets, of course they are willing to pay money to get them back!”

“Sh!” Sherlock quieted her and moved away. “Come on, we need to get going.”

“What about Hugo?” Molly asked anxiously.

“I doubt they will hurt him, especially now when they think they’ll get money for him,” Sherlock reassured her.

“I can’t believe they are doing it.” Molly shook her head as they walked briskly to the bus station. “We need to go to the police.”

Sherlock stopped. “We can’t.”

“Why?!” Molly asked. “They are cheating people out of their money!”

“I know!” Sherlock shot back. “But the police won’t believe two teenagers without any real proof!” 

“We _have_ proof on the tape!” Molly said, pointing to the tape recorder in Sherlock’s hands.

“They will still dismiss us,” Sherlock insisted, moving forward.

“You don’t know that!” Molly shouted after him.

He turned back swiftly to glare at her. “Actually I do!”

Molly blinked at him. “What?”

Sherlock glared at her and turned around, resuming his walking. 

“Sherlock,” Molly called, running after him. 

He walked briskly, then stated in a hard voice. “I already tried to contact the police once in the past when I thought something bad had happened. They dismissed me.”

“Oh.” Molly faltered. “I-I didn’t know that.”

“Obviously.” He sneered.

Molly flinched.

Sherlock sighed and slowed his pace to accommodate Molly as they headed toward the bus station. Molly fell in step next to him, silently. They were quiet for a while, then Sherlock started speaking. 

“It was nineteen eighty-nine.”

Molly looked up at him, surprised, but he continued as if he didn’t notice her. “And I was just a kid. I saw an article in a newspaper about a tragic accident in Brighton, a champion swimmer drowned in a local pool. He had a fit in the water. But there was something wrong. There were no shoes on the scene. All his clothes were in the locker room but no shoes. How could he have gotten there without his shoes?” He scoffed. “I went to my parents but they were sceptical. Eventually my father helped me contact the police. No one believed me. I was just a kid.” He scoffed then looked darkly at Molly. “You think they will believe us because we’re teenagers now?”

Molly didn’t know what to say to that. Finally she tried softly. “We need to stop them.”

Sherlock scoffed. “I know. I need to think.” He huffed and sped up, leaving Molly behind him with a worried look on her face.

xxx

They returned to their town in silence, Sherlock brooding, lost in his thoughts and Molly both worried and indignant at the truth they had just discovered. They parted at the bus station with scarce a word to each other and left to their respective homes. It wasn’t until the next morning that things picked up once more.

Molly answered a knock on the door and stopped stupefied to see Mrs Holmes in front of her.

“Hello, dear. You left the plate with the muffins yesterday and I thought I’ll bring it back to you,” the beautiful lady said with a warm smile.

“Oh, um, thank you,” Molly replied, taking the plate.

“Can I come in?” the lady asked bluntly, “I heard you and my son have found some interesting information yesterday but are not sure how to handle it.”

“He told you?” Molly asked, surprised.

“Oh, God, no!” The woman laughed. “But I know my son and I know something is seriously bothering him. So as any mother I tricked him into telling me what it was.” Mrs Holmes winked and Molly smiled back involuntarily.

“Who is it, Molly?” A voice called from behind them.

“Oh, right!” Molly jumped and made the introductions. “Dad, this is Mrs Holmes.” She turned to the lady in question. “My father, William Hooper.”

“How do you do.” They shook hands.

“Can we help you?” Mr Hooper asked.

“It’s more how we can help William and Molly,” Mrs Holmes replied.

“William?” Mr. Hooper asked looking at Molly in question but it was Mrs Holmes who answered him.

“My son. He probably introduced himself as Sherlock,” she said simply.

“Ah, yes,” Mr Hooper nodded.

Mrs Holmes gave him a brief smile then grew serious. “He and your daughter discovered some untoward business in the next town.”

Mr Hooper looked back to his daughter. “You didn’t tell me that, Molly.”

“I know,” she nodded apologetically. “You were asleep yesterday and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

He nodded. “Why don’t we sit down inside and talk?” He said, inviting Mrs Holmes into the living room.

“I think that’s a great idea,” she nodded and together they headed there.

There was another knock on the door and Molly turned to open it once more.

“Molly,” Sherlock greeted her curtly.

“Sherlock!” Molly gasped. “I-“ She looked back to the living room.

“William? Is that you? Your timing is impeccable!” Mrs Holmes called from the doorway to the living room, giving her son a beatific smile.

“Mummy!” Sherlock scowled at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought back the plate Molly left at our house yesterday,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

“And invited yourself for a cup of tea?” He glowered back at her.

She looked at him pointedly. “Now, young man, we have been just talking about your adventure with Molly yesterday and I think we may be able to help you.”

“Last time you weren’t,” Sherlock shot back flatly.

Mrs Holmes flinched. “Well, we tried as much as we could, you know that.”

Sherlock looked away.

“Well, let’s sit down and talk.” Mr Hooper said to dissuade the tension, inviting everyone to the living room. “Molly, dear, bring us some tea and the cookies you made this morning.”

“Sure, Dad,” she said and left to go to the kitchen.

Finally, after everyone was seated, tea or cookie in hand, both Sherlock and Molly shared their findings from the day before.

“A scam,” Mr Hooper whispered.

“Of the most hideous kind,” Mrs Holmes nodded, her voice hard.

“So what can we do?” Molly asked.

Mrs Holmes looked at her son.“You have the recording, then?” 

“Yes.” He brought it up so everyone could hear it.

“It’s not much,” Mr Hooper commented, “if I didn’t know what it was all about I wouldn’t be able to decipher it from this brief one-sided recording.”

Molly slumped. “We will never get Hugo back unless I pay them the returning fee.”

“I told you I’ll cover the cost, so don’t worry,” Sherlock told her dismissively, making his mother look back at him with curious eyes.

“Nonsense, m’boy, we’ll cover the cost ourselves,” Mr Hooper told him firmly.

“Maybe it won’t come to it,” Mr. Holmes started. “What if I go to them and ask them for help finding a lost pet, we’ll see what they say and how they react if they don’t have the animal.”

“We don’t own any animal.” Sherlock told her flatly. “But you could use Redbeard as a decoy, I suppose.”

Mrs Holmes looked at him sharply, something …odd passing on her face. “Yes… I suppose I could...” she said softly.

“How about I call old Jones. He can help us and he’ll definitely not dismiss our findings.”

Everyone turned to Mr Hooper. 

“Jones?” Sherlock asked.

“An old friend of mine, he’s also a Police Constable,” Mr Hooper said with a smile.

xxx

In the end, it took them about a week to gather enough evidence against the crooks, who preyed on people’s love for their pets, and to have them arrested and charged with fraud. With Jones’ help they were able to gather more recordings, some documents, and witnesses. Thanks to Sherlock’s persistence, they were also able to find the place where the animals were being held between the kidnapping and the safe return to their owners. Once the police confiscated the files, the list of the victims became frighteningly large.

But for Molly only one thing mattered the most.

The return of her beloved cat, Hugo.

The reunion brought huge smiles to the faces of Mr Hooper, Mrs Holmes and PC Jones, and a small, soft one to Sherlock’s. Molly had tears in her eyes as the cat, upon recognising her, started meowing desperately and demandingly, then jumped right into her open arms. With a soft sob, she hugged the big beast and cooed at him happily.

Afterwards Molly walked up to Sherlock, the boy she had just met two weeks ago and who – in that short time – had brought a fair amount of adventure into her life.

“Thank you for helping me with finding my cat,” Molly said, still hugging the disgruntled tabby to her chest, her face partially hidden in the cat’s fur.

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders. “You’re welcome.” He smiled softly. “It was a nice distraction, and an interesting puzzle, the case.”

Molly smiled back. “Yeah, it was pretty interesting. Maybe I _should_ see how pathology works with crime and forensics.”

Sherlock smiled at her. “You do that, and maybe you’ll consider joining me at my Uni, they have a great additional forensic program there.” 

“We’ll see,” she said smiling back.

“You two would make a great investigating team,” PC Jones told them from the side. “You should think about joining the force.”

“Nope,” Sherlock told him with a shake of his head.

“But thank you for your help. And for believing us,” Molly added, giving Sherlock a side glance.

Sherlock side-eyed here then nodded sombrely. “Yeah, thank you.”

PC Jones just shrugged his shoulders. “You’re welcome, your reasoning was sound, and the evidence you had so far collaborated it,” he said. “Seriously, think about it, young man,” he added, shaking Sherlock’s hand.

“Um, ok,” Sherlock agreed reluctantly. “No promises though.”

“Fair enough.” PC Jones smiled and turned to Mr Hooper. “So, Bill, a pint at the pub?”

“Sounds good,” Mr Hooper smiled. “Mrs Holmes, care to join us in celebrating a solved case?”

“Yes, I do. Lead the way,” Mrs Holmes said with a mischievous smile on her face then turned to her son. “Don’t stay too long, William,” she added with a wink.

Sherlock scowled at her. “I’ll follow your example, Mummy!” He shot back.

She laughed at him. “Send Father my way, dear!” She called and followed the two gentlemen to the local pub.

Sherlock looked back to Molly. The hour _was_ getting late, as the sun had set some time ago.

“I… I’ll see you around, yeah?” Molly asked shyly, looking up from underneath her eyelashes.

Sherlock swallowed. “Yeah. Tomorrow at the library?” He asked, searching her eyes. “I’d love to see what else you’ve been reading besides the Introduction to Pathology.”

Molly blushed. “Um, okay.” Then she frowned. “Just don’t get us thrown out from there again!”

Sherlock scowled. “It wasn’t _my_ screeching that got us thrown out last time.”

“What!” Molly _screeched_ indignantly. Hugo howled and pulled out of Molly’s grasp.

Molly yelped, and watched with wide eyes as her cat ran away from her toward their home.

Sherlock tried to keep his laughter in, but was unsuccessful and snorted.

Molly looked back to him with hurt in her eyes then slowly smiled and started giggling as well.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow then?” she asked after their laughter quieted down.

Sherlock nodded. “Eleven-ish?” he asked.

Molly nodded. “I should already be there by then.”

“Okay.” Sherlock nodded once more.

“Um, good night then, Molly said and turned toward her home.

“Night.” Sherlock watched as she disappeared into her house then, with a spring in his step, turned toward his own home. 

Suddenly the rest of the summer started looking so much better!

xxx

End of Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback greatly appreciated :)


	4. The Six Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock writes six letters to Molly while he starts university and she finishes secondary school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Here is the next update, sorry for the delay, I was on vacation in August and didn't really have time to write or edit. HUGE Thank you goes to **MizJoely** <3 for beta work on this chapter, all remaining mistakes are on me.  
> Enjoy! :)

Chapter Three - The Six Letters

_Sherlock writes six letters to Molly while he starts university and she finishes secondary school._

The summer months came and went pretty quickly. Sherlock and Molly spent most of their free time together, be it in the local library or on the fields and in the meadows around their houses. They enjoyed looking at local flora and fauna, collecting samples, and performing various kinds of more or less scientific experiments. They didn’t really investigate any more cases, although Sherlock couldn’t stay out of trouble for long and often needed Molly’s help to get him out of it.

Molly and Mr Hooper become regular guests at the Holmes cottage, often sharing a Sunday tea or even an occasional dinner. Mr Hooper and Mr Holmes had a lot in common and one could often find them discussing one topic or another, while smoking their pipes in the evening. Mrs Holmes was just happy to have more people to feed and she and Molly often spent a lovely time in the kitchen, creating exceptional meals and even more delightful sweet confections. Sherlock observed with fiendish glee how Mycroft’s clothes got tighter and tighter as the summer weeks passed by.

But, as with everything else, the summer came to an end and the time to say goodbye had finally arrived. Molly was to start another year at the local secondary school, while Sherlock was leaving for university.

“I’m going to miss you,” Molly said on the evening of Sherlock’s departure as they sat in the Hoopers’ garden, gazing at the starry night sky.

Sherlock hummed in reply.

“It’s- It’s going to be boring without you here,” Molly said in a shaky voice.

Sherlock snorted and looked at her. “Really? I thought you’d be glad to have some peace finally,” he replied sardonically.

“Not true!” Molly shot back, looking at him with a frown. Then she realised he was teasing her. She shoved him, making him laugh.

She looked back to the sky. “It’s been a fun summer,” she said with a smile in her voice.

Sherlock, eyes on Molly, smiled as well. “It has.”

“Will you write to me?” she asked, looking at him shyly.

Sherlock grimaced and it was his turn to look up to the sky. “I’m not good at writing letters,” he told her honestly.

“Oh.” Molly faltered.

He glanced back at her. “I’ll try doing my best,” he promised.

She looked back at him with a soft smile. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

He smiled involuntarily. There was a pause as he looked back at the sky. “I’m going to miss you, too,” he said quietly.

Molly flushed and looked down. “Christmas isn’t that far away. We can see each other then,” she told him, looking at him from under her eyelashes.

He looked back at her. “Oh, I’m sure,” he nodded, then made a face. “Until then I’ll try to write.”

Molly grinned. “Thank you.”

xxx

_Molly,_

_How is it going there? Any cases you have stumbled upon while I’ve been gone? I hope not! I don’t want to miss all the fun!_

_University is not at all what they make it out to be. The halls are loud and overcrowded, hardly like dorms in the boarding school. Not many interesting people around_ _~~nor any nice ones~~_ _. And all the partying; all the sleeping around._ _Tedious_ _. I don’t know how any of those idiots manage to pass exams and get a degree. And it’s only been six weeks so far._

 _There is a party going on at the moment in the upper rooms. Not that I’m attending._ _~~Or want to~~. _ _Apparently sharing thoughts on who slept with whom the night before is a bit not good._ ~~_And won’t make you popular with the crowd._~~ _Oh well, not that I would have gone anyway._ _Boring_ _. The armchair here in the back common room is quite comfortable and the noise isn’t as loud._ ~~_And it gives me this great opportunity to scribble this letter to you._~~ _And I can try to write this letter to you. I did promise I’d try to write, didn’t I? I told you I’m not good at it._

 _Professors and classes here aren’t any better. I could teach half of the courses myself! The reading material is also abominable. When did they last update their reading materials lists?! The chemistry labs are fine though, on top notch. I have a lot of fun doing the required_ _a ~~nd not so required~~ _ _experiments. Another positive is that the locks to the labs are laughable. I can go there whenever I want to!_ ~~_(Though I hoped to hone my lockpicking skills. Ah well, I’ll find another place to do it.)_~~

 _Good Lord, what the hell is going on up there?! Anyway, just a few weeks till Christmas break. I have some experiments planned that we can do together when I return home._ ~~_Don’t let Hugo disappear again, wouldn’t want to miss the fun of finding him again!_~~

~~_Miss you,_ ~~

_Sherlock_

xxx

_Dear Molly,_

_I. AM. SO. SORRY!_

_I am._

_I_ _really_ _hadn’t known you would be already awake! Really! It was Christmas Eve_ ~~_and still practically night time! Who gets up this early anyway? And don’t get me started on the difficulties of entering your room via the window! It’s on the upper floor for God’s sake._~~ _and I just wanted to leave you the present before I go. Had I known what would happen, I wouldn’t have barged in, I promise!_ ~~ _Not that I have anything to complain after seeing that bra and--_~~

 _I hope you liked the present I left you. Or that you have actually found it in the first place. I do think I managed to throw it onto your bed_ _~~as you assaulted me with your make-up and hair products as well as plushies~~ _ _as you defended yourself._ _Not_ _that I’m blaming you! Good to know you have such a great aim, and can protect yourself so well._ ~~_I’m going to have that black eye till New Year’s Day or longer._~~

 _Mummy is amused_ _~~(after she waxed my ear off for the stunt, mind you),~~_ _Father shakes his head_ _~~(and mutters under his breath about doing something wrong while raising me. Whatever he might mean?)~~_ _. Mycroft sneers whenever he sees me. Oh well, I’ll stuff my mouth with all the good food while he’s here. He’s on a diet again._ ~~_Fatty_ _._~~

 _The ski resort is boring. What_ ~~_the hell_~~ _am I going to do here? Just snow and snow and snow all around. Oh, and apparently line dancing. My parents are excited. I’m in hell._

_I’d prefer to stay with you, but I heard from Mummy your father owns a registered gun from his army service. So yeah, maybe it’s better if I stay here with the line dancing, too much snow and a sneering Mycroft._

_Happy Family Christmas to me. Or not._

_Will you ever forgive me? _ _It would really be a shame if we don’t do any experimenting with the new lab equipment I’m going to get for Christmas._

 ~~ _Please forgive me._~~ _Happy Christmas!_

_Sherlock_

xxx

_Molly,_

_The summer term is going well. Yes, I do have some new courses and laboratories._ ~~_Still at the same place, though, no good locks to pick._~~ _Most of them are as boring as the ones from the previous term. No surprises I suppose. Also, another bunch of incompetent professors. One of them demands we work with a lab partner._ _Whatever for? _ _I’ll do all the required assignments on my own and_ _still _ _be better than the rest of the idiots in the class._

 _Anyway, they are apparently assigned by the professors. The lab partners. I got Violet Hunter. She’s a little older and thankfully_ _~~for her~~ _ _has half a brain._ _~~Otherwise I’d have ditched her after the first class.~~ _ _Could use some hair contraption to keep her thick brown locks from interfering with the experiments though. Almost ruined one yesterday._ ~~_Maybe I’ll still ditch her anyway, you’d have never made such an amateur mistake._~~

 _How is your schoolwork going? Are you overworking yourself already? I could tell from our time in the library during the summer that you work hard and are an overachiever. Leave the library for once._ ~~_Or should I come there to get you into trouble?_~~

 _Also, you really shouldn’t listen to whatever Jenna Pollock says. She’s an insecure, insipid little girl with half a brain cell, jealous of your achievements. Not to mention her parents are divorcing so she’s lashing out. Idiot._ _Not worth your time at all_ _._

 _Gotta go. Have a study session with Violet at the library. No screeching from her though, so no danger of being thrown out, ha! Other guys could stop pestering her for help, though,_ ~~_no matter how good a student she is._~~ _How are we supposed to do anything as they are always hanging on her every word?!_

_Sherlock_

xxx

_Molly,_

_So Peter Burrow has been talking to you lately? Is he the one we met during the summer while working for Old PC Jones’ retirement home case? The one with the glasses?_ _~~The one gazing at you all the time, with his big toothy smile?~~ _ _If I recall correctly he was rather, ah, stuttery around us when we ran into him that one time. But he doesn’t treat his grandmother well,_ _~~prick,~~_ _and has some ah, undesirable_ _disease_ _, if you know what I mean. Better keep away from him._

 _As I told you over the summer, I am starting the criminology major this year, as well. I was mostly bored out of my mind last term with just the chemistry one,_ ~~_not even labs with Violet were of any excitement._~~ _Violet moved, you know? Got a scholarship or exchange program at some abroad uni or something. Oh, well, might need to find another lab partner if the need arises._ ~~_It better not!_~~

 _Anyway, the criminology courses seem to be mildly interesting so far. Thank the Lord, some of them are similar to those from last year, so I don’t have to do them again._ ~~_The incompetent and lazy professors just give me a pass based on last year’s performance._~~ _Old Jones was right about me trying the forensic courses, they do neatly bring together the chemistry knowledge and medical one, you know? I think you’d like them as well. On the bright side, the labs this year are in a different building, with better locks!_ ~~_Been practising my pick-locking skills._~~

 _I think I’m going to look for a flat around the campus. The halls don’t work for me anymore. Wilkes and his cohort are grating on my nerves, the partying is also starting to be boring and tiresome._ _Gotta get out of here soon._

 _Till Christmas then?_ ~~_Will show you some new lab tricks._~~

_Sherlock_

xxx

 ~~ _Dear_~~ _Molly,_

 _So you have found out when my birthday is. Who blabbed it? Give it! I bet it was Mummy, she does have a soft spot for you. Wouldn’t put it past Mycroft as well, he_ _knows _ _I hate celebrating them. Not that it wasn’t nice to get the present from you! I really like it! And the ginger nuts!_ ~~_They were delicious, not that they would be anything else, you do have a knack for baking, you know?_~~

~~_Hm, now I need to find out when your birthday is, I suppose… oh well, won’t be hard at all._ ~~

_I’m glad you and your father had a great time spending Christmas with us this year. It was nice. No ski resort, no line dancing!_ ~~_But your presence_~~ _ ~~.~~ That _ _is_ _a vast improvement from last year._ ~~_Thankfully there were no unsolicited run-ins with your underwear-clad self in the early morning at yours. On the other hand…_ ~~

_I really enjoyed our experiments over the break. I’m glad my parents bought me the newest microscope. Also, I hadn’t thought about this usage for the solvent. Good catch. I’ll recreate it in the laboratory environment for comparison purposes and will send you the notes. And speaking of such, as much as I_ _enjoy _ _writing the letters to you_ _~~and getting your replies~~ , _ _we should start using the latest advantages the technology brings us. So I’ve set you up an email address. We can use the Internet to communicate a lot quicker this way_ _~~(even if you’ll need to go to the library to check it out)~~_ _, especially if we’re to start comparing notes on the experiments. The details are on the enclosed printout._

 _I think I have_ _finally _ _found the flat. Gonna check it out next week, if it works, I’m out of here by the end of the month._ ~~_It cannot come soon enough._~~

_Thank you for the present, as you can see the fountain pen is useful._

_Sherlock_

xxx

_Dear Molly,_

_I know we use emails now, and_ _do _ _check your inbox_ _more often_ _!, but I’ve just taken a break from moving the stuff to the new flat because, as you know, the first one was a disaster._ _~~But at least I was out of the halls.~~ T_ _his one seems to be fine, not sure why Mummy insisted on getting a two bedroom one, though._ ~~_Good Lord, does she think I’ll take a flatmate?! As if! After a year and half in the halls, I plan on living alone_ _for the rest of my life_ _._~~

 _Anyway, I just recalled in your latest email that detail about the Graduation Ball at your school. While I agree that going to one seems like a waste of time, isn’t it a normal graduating experience? I thought you’d like to go. Is it because Jenna Pollock said something stupid to you again? She’s an_ _idiot_ _, I told you that. Ah, also, did I tell you I’m glad you didn’t pay Peter Burrow any mind? As you ascertained yourself, he_ _is_ _a prick and has some_ _unpleasant _ _disease to spread around._ _I ~~told you so.~~_ _But since you didn’t mention anyone, except him, is your reluctance to go to the Ball because you don’t have a date?_ ~~_It is something one goes to with a date, right? I have no clue as we didn’t have this sort of thing at my all boys boarding school. But my research seems to point to this answer._~~

_Well, I think there is only one thing we should do. To deal with the Burrows and Pollocks of your stupid school and to show them up, I’m going to take you to this Graduation Ball. So what do you say? It won’t be a problem. Might be even interesting to deduce all those idiots there._

_Do let me know._

_Sherlock_

xxx

End of Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews make my day! Thank you to all who leave kudos and drop a line about the story <3
> 
> Next update should be on schedule in about 3 weeks.


	5. Interlude – The Aggravating Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's POV of the letters and her reactions to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Here is the next instalment of the story :) Huge thank you to **MizJoely** for beta reading! <3

Interlude – The Aggravating Boy

_ Molly's POV of the letters and her reactions to them. _

Molly got to know Sherlock a little more that first summer after their initial meeting. She knew he was an odd boy, an aggravating one for sure, and eccentric, and often tactless, but deep down oddly …sweet. She really enjoyed spending time with him. He was funny and smart, and most of all, he was not only keeping up with her reading materials but was fascinated with the same topics as she. Finally!  _ Finally  _ she had found someone who shared her interests. 

That very first summer was the best one she had ever had and she was truly going to miss him now that he was going to be many miles away from her. That’s why she asked him to write letters to her. Of course, she didn’t expect much, especially after he warned her he wouldn’t be very good at it. 

It was not a surprise, then, that the arrival of the first letter left her a little stupefied. She had honestly lost hope of ever getting one and resigned herself to learning about Sherlock’s time at university during the Christmas break. But then it  _ came _ . The first letter. 

She stared at the envelope and at the somewhat familiar scrawling of her name on it, her heart doing odd acrobatics in her chest. She rushed to her room and almost tore the envelope in half. She took out the letter and laughed aloud at his short message, almost note like. She read it and reread it a couple of times, not at all surprised by his disillusioned descriptions of university life. She had a feeling he counted on a better experience, a new start of sorts. She hoped for it to be as such for his sake, but in the end, she wasn’t that surprised at what he’d got. He was …different. And there weren’t many people that appreciated the  _ different _ , she knew it first-hand herself, after all. 

She read the letter one more time and smiled to herself. It was all him, she could practically hear his voice in her head as if he dictated it to her. She felt a sudden ache in her chest, she really grew to like him. That evening she wrote him a quick reply, but of course didn’t get anything back in the few weeks before his return for Christmas. 

The second letter still made her blush a deep, deep red of mortification. That accident on Christmas Eve was something she would rather forget. Honestly! Who barges into someone else's room (on a first floor no less) in the wee hours of a dawn? Thankfully she had had her underwear on! A couple minutes earlier and she would have never lived down the mortification! She had been so shocked she had just thrown whatever was in the vicinity of her hands at him. He had left pretty fast but not before her shampoo had made an, ah, impression on his eye. Served him right. The git. He did apologise a lot for that incident, and the gift he left her - Forensic Pathology really sounded fascinating - definitely mollified her anger (not her father’s though! At least for a while). All in all she truly hoped just to forget about it all. But the letter was sweet and totally him, and it was really hard to stay mad at him for long (plus she wanted to do the experiments with his new lab equipment!). 

His third letter brought her …a surprising amount of …unease. Why shouldn’t he meet new people? That’s what he wanted. That’s what  _ she _ wanted. For him. To meet new people. But did he have to meet an older girl, intelligent enough to impress him and with thick brown hair to distract  _ people _ around her?! Ugh! She shoved the letter into a desk drawer and flipped into her bed, burrowing her head in her pillow. What was  _ wrong _ with her?!

The spring ended and the summer holiday neared, and that meant Sherlock’s return from Uni. The closer to it, the more excited and giddy she became. For the first time she had someone her age to spend the summer break with. And boy did they spend the time together! Doing experiments, lots and lots of experiments (Sherlock really had great lab equipment, and, yeah, that was their favourite pastime). But there was also that case PC Jones involved them in, and more research they did for him. Sherlock even made some insightful comments on a few ongoing investigations ( getting himself banned from the police station in the process), and she was able to see the morgue from the inside once! Best summer ever, even better than the one the year before! 

And somehow, over the passing summer weeks, Sunday dinner with the Holmeses became a standing appointment for the Hoopers. And during the weekdays it wasn’t that difficult to find Mrs Holmes baking goods with Molly at the Hoopers while Mr Holmes chatted with her father. And it was nice to have more people around the house. 

Sherlock  _ begrudgingly _ tolerated the new families’ interactions. Or so he tried to portray but Molly could tell he had as much fun over the summer as the rest of them. He also had grand plans for his next academic year. Molly learned he wanted to start another major alongside his chemistry one, and she was more than sure he’d manage it intellectually without any problems. He wasn’t talking about the people he had met there, though, and she didn’t have the courage to ask him about Violet (lest she heard something she really didn’t want to hear). Time passed and the summer slowly turned into autumn, and, with a heavy heart, Molly, once again, said goodbye to Sherlock, resigning herself to getting just a few missives from him during the following academic year. 

She lasted a week. After all, weren’t they friends? Even the best of friends? Why should _ he _ be the first one to write to her? Why couldn’t she start their correspondence this time? So, with a jaw set in determination, she reached out to him first. 

His response left her a little bemused, though. Why was he concerned about Peter Burrow of all people? She had seen the boy a couple of times at school as he stopped to chat with her during recess but that was all. And she  _ did _ know how he treated his grandmother, thank you very much. That’s the reason she stopped speaking with him altogether after she had witnessed his poor behaviour. On the bright note, Violet Hunter seemed to be gone. Well, maybe that’s not a bright note… It meant Sherlock didn’t have anyone there anymore, right? To talk, spend time with, to experiment... Why else would he want to find a flat outside the campus and away from his mates? Ahgrr! She was so conflicted by that- that aggravating boy!

She giggled so much over the letter he had sent right after Christmas. He was so incensed she knew his birthday! And in truth, she had found out about it totally by accident. She didn’t mean to overhear his talk with his father about the present he wanted and the reason for the present in the first place. But after she had learnt his birthday was coming up soon she asked his father the exact date and set up on a journey to find him the best present she could get. The fountain pen was one of the things she wondered about getting him for Christmas and she didn’t have any reservation about buying it for him for the shortly upcoming birthday. She was glad he liked it. And she was glad there had been no  _ accidents with unsolicited visits to her room _ during this Christmas, thank you very much! 

The git had set her up an email address! As if she couldn’t have done it by herself! The nerve of him! But it did give them the opportunity to talk more, so there was that. And it  _ was _ nice to be able to talk with him more often, not that she had a lot of time for socialising now that the A-levels were so close. She liked to get his letters, though, no matter how sparse they were, but now looks like there won’t be any more traditional letters coming her way at all... 

It was such a surprise then, when she got another one from Sherlock. 

And what a surprise the content was!

He wanted to take her to the Graduation Ball! 

She blushed up to her hair roots. 

But how could she say no? He was right. All those posh, snotty girls looking down on her, poking fun at her interests, and making fun of her dreams. Showing them up would be the perfect goodbye to her secondary school. 

But going with Sherlock? 

Could she do it? 

Could she not?

xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback is greatly appreciated! Please, and thank you!  
> Next chapter should be in about 3 weeks.


	6. His First Vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock (20) goes with Molly (18) to the Graduation Ball as her date, while her Dad gives Sherlock his blessing, not that the lad realises it at the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, RL life can be a pain in the ...neck. (hm, halloween-y, if you're into vampires lol, don't mind me!). COVID hit close to home, actually, hit home, my bro tested positive. He's fine with basically no symptoms, but the whole situation is still nerve-wrecking. 
> 
> but here is to escapism, thank God for fanfics!
> 
> And huge thank you the the ever lovely and wonderful MizJoely, who did beta work for this chapter, all remaining mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter Four - His First Vow

_Sherlock (20) goes with Molly (18) to the Graduation Ball as her date._

xxx

One of the biggest surprises for Molly was the appearance of Mrs Holmes on her doorstep a few days later after Sherlock’s last letter had arrived. The woman came with an offer to help her choose a dress for the graduation ball.

“My dear, it would be my greatest honour to help you buy the dress,” the older lady started after Molly invited her for tea.

Molly blinked, taken aback by this unexpected offer. “Um… I-I...”

“My girl,” Mrs Holmes continued earnestly, “I…” she paused, looking to the side, then sighed. “I have only boys but I've always dreamed of helping a girl of my own to dress and impress.” She looked surprisingly vulnerable as she continued. “Would you… would you mind me doting on you for one day?”

Molly swallowed, seeing the raw emotion in the elder woman’s eyes. It was obvious this was quite important to her.

“I… No, o-of course not,” she stammered her acceptance, and really, how could she say no to this lovely and warm, always so kind to her, woman? And yet…, to be honest, she felt rather awkward about the whole idea. She had never had any female figure in her life to ask for help or advice in this regard. Her mother died in childbirth, and both her parents were only children, with no real family left, her mother literally since she had been a foster child. She had met her father, an only son to an elderly deceased couple, shortly after leaving the system. There were no aunts or cousins on either side, just her and her father, really.

Suddenly, Molly’s throat tightened as the enormity of Mrs Holmes’s ask hit her. She would have the opportunity to enjoy a female presence, …a maternal figure. It was… It was--

“I-it would be my honour as well,” Molly whispered.

Mrs Holmes beamed at her, putting her hand on Molly's. “Thank you, my dear,” she said, her eyes bright with gratefulness. “We can go maybe this Saturday?”

Molly agreed and on the appointed day the two females went to hunt for the perfect graduation dress, both of their hearts yearning and hopeful.

xxx

Sherlock was aware that his mother had helped Molly with the choosing of the dress for the graduation ball, as well as offered to make her hair, but did it really have to take so _long_?

He had been waiting at the Hoopers for – he looked at his watch – dear Lord, was it really only ten minutes?! It felt like hours. Why did girls have to take so long to get ready? They were always waiting for Mummy, too, whenever they went out or--

“So how are you holding up, my boy?” Sherlock jumped slightly as Mr Hooper interrupted his mental rant.

“Um, ok, I guess.” Sherlock looked back at him. “Just waiting for Molly to come down.”

Mr Hooper smiled knowingly as he moved to sit down in his usual armchair. “Women folk are mysterious in their inability to be on time. But believe me, my boy, it's worth the wait.”

Sherlock scowled, “It really shouldn't get this long!” he huffed.

Mr Hooper laughed. “You'd better get used to it!”

Sherlock's scowl only deepened.

There was a short pause as Mr Hooper prepared his pipe for smoking. Sherlock suspected it was an old family piece, as the man always treated it with great dignity and revenerance. 

“I can't believe Molly's already graduating school. It's as if just merely yesterday I held her tiny form in my arms for the first time,” Mr Hooper mused as he filled the pipe with tobacco. “It was a very special moment, so precious… She was alive... and warm and squealing lightly as they placed her in my arms for the first time.” He shot Sherlock a quick smile, then sombered slightly as he turned to his pipe. “I’d just lost my beloved wife but she gave me the last gift she could, my Molly.” He paused some more and Sherlock wondered if he was expected to answer in some way. 

“I care for my daughter deeply,” Mr Hooper continued, “I want what's best for her. And I fear. I fear life will not be kind to her and will take me away too soon from her. I… I don't want her to be alone. But there are no Hoopers left beside the two of us. She'll have no one…”

“She'll have me,” Sherlock blurted, completely surprising himself by his outburst. 

Mr Hooper looked at him with his wise penetrating gaze, his familiar brown eyes searching his. 

Sherlock swallowed suddenly, but didn't look away and continued in a steady voice. “She'll have me and my family, we will not let her be alone. I swear.” 

Seconds passed as the two men - one young, barely out of his teens and one older, wiser, having been taught many lessons by life - gazed at each other. Then Mr Hooper smiled slowly. 

“Ah, youth.” His smile turned mischievous as he put his pipe into his mouth and inhaled. 

Sherlock frowned. “She will not be alone,” he repeated solemnly, inexplicably needing the older man to believe him. He was speaking the truth after all. 

Mr Hooper nodded, pipe in mouth, his face somber and serious once more. “I believe you, my boy.”

Sherlock nodded back, then a thud and a giggle came from above and Sherlock's shoulders sagged as he looked up the staircase. How much longer?! 

With the corner of his eye he saw Mr Hooper exhale the smoke from his pipe then point it at Sherlock. “I know you smoke cigarettes,” the older man said conversationally.

Sherlock bristled. 

“It's ok, I won't tell your mother, although I suspect she's quite aware of your nasty habit.” Mr Hooper put his pipe in his mouth and inhaled once more while smirking at Sherlock over it. 

Sherlock huffed. 

“Anyway,” Mr Hooper continued as he took his pipe from his mouth, “pipe smoking, while probably not any better than cigs, is definitely so much more distinguished and dignified.” He looked at the pipe in his hands. “That's a fine handcrafted family heirloom, you know? It has been in my family for generations, passed from father to son. I got it from my father on my twenty first birthday, shortly before he died.” He sighed resignedly. “I hoped to pass it to the next generation, like our family tradition dictates, alas I have only my lovely daughter.” He looked at Sherlock. “Maybe someday she'll bring a boy home, one that will become a son, if only by law, and then I'll be able to pass it to him.” 

For whatever reason Sherlock's gut clenched, heartbeat accelerating--

Another giggle came from above.

Suddenly Mr Hooper straightened in his armchair and laughed. “Look at me getting all maudlin on you! Molly'd better be getting down soon or you'll think I've gone completely barmy.” He laughed once more as he put the pipe into his mouth and inhaled again. “Like I said,” he continued over the pipe in his mouth, “you should definitely try smoking the pipe. Maybe someday you'll even smoke this one.” He lifted it in the air, giving Sherlock a knowing twinkling smile. “I wouldn't mind that,” he shook his head as he mumbled under his nose, “definitely wouldn't mind that at all.” 

Before Sherlock could really understand what Mr Hooper tried to say, there was a final thud from above and Molly's room was finally opened, revealing Sherlock's mother. She smiled over the railing and then headed downstairs. 

“She's almost ready,” she beamed then stopped in front of Sherlock. “Aren't you a handsome one, my boy?” she asked, smiling lovingly at him. She put her hand to his cheek. “So much like your father!”

“Mummy!” Sherlock scoffed and took a step back, embarrassed. 

Mr Hooper smirked over his pipe at him, his eyes knowing. 

Then Molly's door opened one more time and, _finally,_ she had appeared.

Sherlock's mind halted. 

He knew it was Molly. He was at her house, he had just spoken with her father who was sitting next to him. And yet…

The young woman walking down the stairs just couldn't have been his friend, even though he knew it must have been. 

She was wearing a gauzy lavender dress that flowed around her hips down to her knees. It was sleeveless with the neck and bodice covered by white lace with flowers over the gauzy material. Her impossibly thin waist was accentuated by a silk lavender bow tied around it and to the side over her hip. Her hair was curled and left down, swept over one shoulder, the other side held by a white flower hair clip. It didn't look as if she had any makeup on but she seemed to glow and her eyes were bigger, darker, sparkling more than usual. She stopped in front of Sherlock and he noticed she was a little taller than normal; he glanced down, and yes, it was all thanks to the white medium sized heels on her feet.

“Well, aren't you beautiful, my dear?” Mr Hooper said as he got up from his armchair. 

“Thank you, Dad,” Molly said shyly, her gaze flickering to Sherlock.

Mrs Holmes hit her son with her elbow. “Well?” she said pointedly. 

Sherlock startled. “Yes, you look… nice,” he said a little dazedly.

“Nice!” Mrs Holmes exclaimed. “You may look like your father but you still have a lot to learn from him!” She scolded him.

Sherlock scowled. Really?! He turned to his mother to glare at her as Molly giggled. 

“Thank you, Sherlock,” she said shyly. 

He looked back at her. “Yes, um,” he swallowed. “I… yes. I have flowers.” He turned around missing his mother's eye roll, and reached for the bouquet behind him. “Here!” he thrust it at her. 

“Oh!” Molly said as she took the daisies from his hands. “They are beautiful!” She buried her nose in them inhaling, as she gazed up at him from under her dark eyelashes. _Was it getting hot in here?_ “I'll just put them…” She pointed to the kitchen. 

“Nonsense, I'll do it for you, you'd better get going or you'll be late,” Mr Hooper said as he stepped toward her to take the flowers. 

Mrs Holmes extended her hand to Sherlock. “Here are the car keys, I hope you haven't forgotten how to drive a car.”

“Really, Mummy.” Sherlock scowled at her once more. She just smiled at him beatifically then turned toward Molly. “Have a good time you two,” she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Home by 3 a.m., my boy,” Mr Hooper said firmly. 

Sherlock nodded. “We'll be on time.” He turned to Molly, extending his elbow for her to take. “Shall we?” 

She blushed prettily but nodded. “Yes,” she smiled up at him as she looped her arm through his and he couldn't help but smile back. “Into the battle!” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and Molly giggled.

Behind them Mrs Holmes and Mr Hooper looked at each other, hoping tentatively for the future.

xxx

“Are you ready?” Sherlock asked Molly as the car stopped in front of her secondary school.

She took a deep breath. Was she? Those were the people who, over the last few years, had looked down on her, on her dreams and ambitions. Was she ready to face them? Was she ready to show them her dolled up self? With a university student at her side? 

The hell, she was!

She looked at Sherlock and smiled. “You bet I am.”

A slow mischievous smile bloomed on his face. “That’s my girl. Wait here,” he pointed at her then, with “The game is on!” on his lips, he left the car smoothly. Gracefully, he walked around it to open the doors to her side, exchanging his hand for her to take.

With a blush she looked at the hand and then up to his face.

Sherlock winked at her. “Let’s do this all the way.”

She nodded and allowed him to help her out.

A couple of curious looks were sent her way as people passed them to get into the gym, where the main event was being held. Some watched her with growing disbelief as she left the quite expensive car.

Sherlock didn’t release her hand right away, but slowly brought it up to his face and with another mischievous wink, kissed her knuckles.

Despite the warmness on her cheeks, Molly couldn’t help the giggle escaping her lips at his antics. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And yet you cannot resist me.” He wriggled his eyebrows.

Molly huffed. “I beg to differ.”

“You caa-aan’t,” he sang teasingly as he turned to close the car. 

“It wasn’t me who asked you to accompany me,” she reminded him. 

Sherlock smiled lazily at her over his shoulder. “And yet, you agreed.”

Molly huffed. “I did it only to give you the opportunity to experience this kind of function,” she said solemnly.

Sherlock turned toward her. “You just wanted to show them all up with your hot uni date.” He smirked at her.

Molly huffed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He presented her his arm. “I speak only the truth.”

Molly rolled her eyes as she took it. “Fine, I couldn’t pass the opportunity to shock them all.”

“And that’s my girl.” Sherlock smiled at her as he tugged her arm into his crooked elbow and led them into the building. Molly, with her chin high, walked next to him.

xxx

Sherlock fended off another one of those nasty girls. God, they were all the same. _Wow, how did such a handsome guy end up with mousy Molly? No worries, you can spend the rest of the evening with me!_ Nope. Not in a million years. He knew their type from uni. He came here with Molly, and he planned to leave with her, thank you very much. They had had a good time conversing during the dinner part of the evening, and now as the dancing had just started, he was looking forward to continuing it on the floor. If only Molly would _finally_ come back from the toilet. He frowned. She really should have been back by now. Hm, time to investigate. 

He left the gymnasium and headed toward the toilets, ignoring a group of giggling, irritating girls as they passed him from the opposite direction. Finally, he reached the restrooms and knocked on the Ladies’ door. No answer. 

“Molly?” he called. 

Still nothing. 

He looked from one side of the corridor to the other then, without preamble, entered the loos just as Molly left the last stall. 

“Sherlock!” she squeaked, jumping a little. “What are you doing here?! This is a girls bathroom!”

“Never mind that, you were taking too long.” He looked at her closely. “What’s wrong?”

Molly brushed past him to wash her hands. “It’s nothing,” she said, avoiding his eyes.

He frowned. “Clearly it's not _nothing._ ”

Molly sighed. “That stupid cow was here and-”

“Who?” Sherlock watched her carefully but Molly avoided his eyes. Then he recalled the group of giggling girls and who was at the front of them. 

“Pollock? Jenna Pollock?” he asked with narrow eyes. “Did she say something to you?”

“Not really.” Molly shook her head and sighed. “I _know_ she’s a stupid cow. Damn, I don’t know why whatever she says gets to me so much.”

“Molly, what did she say?” Sherlock took a step towards her. 

She looked at him finally and tried to smile a little. “It’s not worth it.” Sherlock searched her eyes. “Really, it’s not,” she insisted.

He nodded. “Well, that _is_ probably true.” He gave her a wicked smile. “Her date ditched her for some other girl and now she tries to make others miserable.”

Molly’s eyebrows raised and a smile crept on her face. “Really?”

“Of course, I saw it happen while waiting for you. Now, are you ready to return?”

She smiled fully at him. “Yeah.” 

“Good, because the best solution to the Pollocks of the world is to enjoy ourselves in spite of them.”

Molly giggled as they left the restroom (and thankfully no one saw them leaving it together). “And how do you propose we do that?”

Sherlock gave her another wicked smile. “We’ll have to dance the floor away!”

Molly halted, her face paling. “I… um, I can't dance,” she said timidly. 

“Oh. Well.” Sherlock pursed his lips then smiled slowly at her, leaning closer. “I'll tell you a secret,” he whispered. “Half the work behind dancing is _believing_ you can do it and having _a good time_ doing it.” He winked. 

Molly couldn’t help smiling back at him. “Really? I'm not sure it works that way.”

“Sure it does,” he proclaimed, taking her hand in his. “Come on, let's try it. I'll show you.” 

“What? _Now_?” She half laughed, half squeaked as he moved them into a dancing position. 

“Why not?” He grinned boyishly at her.

“Here?” She looked around the corridor leading from the restrooms to the gymnasium, but put her other hand on his shoulder. 

“Where else? We can hear the music and we have plenty of space here to do it.” He started swaying to prove his point. “Come on,” he leaned in closer, “where is your sense of adventure?”

Molly still looked a little sceptical, as she allowed him to sway her with his movements.

Sherlock’s eyes intensified. “Or are you a coward?”

Molly flushed, her eyes blazing, as she glared at him. “Fine! Let's do it!” She straightened, her chin up, as she locked her eyes with his. 

Sherlock just grinned at her triumphantly. 

Molly glowered back at him. “I hate you!”

He only laughed as he twirled them around the corridor. “No, you don't…” And to prove his point he sent her into a twirl of her own.

“Umpf!” She squeaked then laughed as he smoothly turned her less than graceful return into his arms into another turn of their dancing. 

“See! I can’t do it, I’ll step on your toes,” Molly protested. 

“You haven’t so far,” Sherlock shot back, leading them into another sequence of steps. 

“But what if the music changes into something faster?” 

And then, of course, just like that, it _did_.

“Let’s see then.” Sherlock only smiled and, taking her hands in his, stepped back a little, still moving to the fast beat, leading her to follow him. “You’d better admire my face, not my shoes,” he teased.

“What!” Molly huffed as her head shot up to face him. “You wish!” But her cheeks were sporting a red hue. 

He laughed and once again made her twirl away from him.

“The corridor is not for dancing, Miss Hooper.”

Molly stumbled, but Sherlock caught her in his arms. 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Johnson!” Molly puffed. 

“It’s ok, just take it to the gymnasium. It would be a pity not to show such prowess there.” The old teacher smiled mischievously at them. 

“See? I told you!” Sherlock preened, shooting Molly a look.

“Humph!” She harrumphed, then marched toward the gymnasium. 

Sherlock just laughed once more as he ran after her and took her hand in his. “Come on, let’s dance.” 

She tried to glare at him, but, unable to keep the pretense, just shook her head and allowed him to lead her to the dancing area.

Where they spent the rest of the night, laughing, dancing and ignoring the rest of the world. 

xxx

“Did you choose the uni?” Sherlock asked Molly afterwards as they walked down the path to her house, well past 3 a.m., but with good spirits. 

“I did,” Molly nodded, side-eyeing him, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. 

“And?” he asked impatiently. 

Molly kept her mouth shut, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she tried to suppress her smile.

“Come on,” Sherlock whined. “Aren’t you going to tell me?”

Molly smiled. “Nope,” she teased him.

“Molly!”

She giggled. “Not until I get my acceptance letter and my Dad gets to know it before you,” she said resolutely.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “I’ll deduce it first.”

Molly laughed. “You can try!”

They stopped at the door of her house. 

“Well, here we are,” Molly said, glancing at Sherlock. “Thank you for being my date.”

Sherlock stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It was an interesting experience and I got to dance.”

Molly blushed and looked down. “Yes, thank you for that as well.”

Sherlock cleared his throat. 

Molly looked up at him. 

“I, um,” he straightened, putting his hands behind him. “I read that the whole graduation ball experience cannot end without a goodnight kiss from a date.”

“A-a k-kiss?” Molly squaked.

“Yes. So I’m going to kiss you.” A pause. “If you permit me.”

“Y-yes, y-you can kiss me,” she stuttered, watching him with wide eyes.

Sherlock looked at her, then nodded. He leaned, his gaze locked with hers. For the first time Molly noticed how multicoloured his eyes truly were. There were flecks of gold and green in his blue eyes, and she was mesmerised. Then he tilted his head and her eyes closed involuntarily. 

Softness. 

His lips were so soft and supple against hers. 

...an echo of their first meeting...

Tingling spread all over her body. 

He pressed his lips a little more against hers, his hand moving to cradle her cheek. She sighed involuntarily. 

Once again everything faded away. 

And the soft pressure on her lips continued. The gentle movement against her own as Sherlock corrected his angle, bringing them closer together. 

Their breath mingled as his lips opened under hers.

Her heartbeat accelerated.

The sweet taste of him--

A dog barked somewhere, startling them apart. 

They blinked and their eyes locked.

“There,” Sherlock whispered, their faces still close. “Your graduation ball experience is complete.”

Searching his eyes, Molly replied. “So is yours.”

Sherlock blinked. “So it seems.” He smiled. “Thank you then.” 

She smiled shyly at him.

He straightened. “Now," he gave her an imploring look, "you just need to get ready for uni, prepare for the campus and you were saying you are going to…?” he shot back at her.

Molly blinked. “Nowhere.” She replied and gave him a knowing look. “Not gonna fall for this.”

Sherlock smirked at her. “Worth the try.”

She just shook her head. “Thanks again, Sherlock, I had a wonderful time.”

“So did I.” He smiled.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” She gazed at him with her big brown eyes. 

He shook his head. “I don’t think so, I gotta catch the train. An early exam.”

Her smile flattered. “Oh, good luck then.”

“Don’t need it.” He smirked at her. “And neither will you when you join me there next term.”

Molly just huffed. “Still not telling you where I’m going. Good night!” And with her upturned nose high in the air, she turned around and marched inside. 

Sherlock just smirked at the closed doors. 

He will find it out before she tells him!

xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm far from asking for reviews, but I'm not gonna lie, staying quarantined at home, I could use some good ole cheering up, and nothing lifts spirits like a comment on your work. 
> 
> Wish you all to best, stay safe, and, seriously, follow the restrictions and safety measures! I'll see you with the next update, we hit uni! Yay, I'm excited for that part of the story :) (and yes, this is a tease :P)


	7. The Sign of Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly joins Sherlock at university.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Here is next part of Sherlock and Molly's journey. We hit uni! :D  
> All my love to MizJoely, who did the beta work for this. You are the best!  
> Enjoy! :)

Chapter Five - The Sign of Two

_ Molly joins Sherlock at university. _

“Well, I gotta go, girls, or I’ll miss the last bus,” Molly said as she started gathering her books from their table in the campus library. 

“I still can’t believe you live outside the halls, I thought it was mandatory,” Beth said. 

“It’s not mandatory,” Meena explained, “although all of the students prefer to do it as it’s  _ cheaper _ .” She looked at Molly. “Where do you get all the money to live outside the campus?” She glanced at the other girls, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively and making them giggle. 

Molly just rolled her eyes, fighting the blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Meena! I just have a flatmate. It’s affordable that way.” 

“A flatmate, huh?” Joanna asked. “So when are we gonna meet her?” 

“They are rather busy, doing two majors,” she replied, gathering her stuff.

“Oh, I didn’t know you could start two majors as a first year,” Beth commented. 

Meena looked at her. “You can’t. Generally.”

“Oh, so someone older, then?” Joanna leaned closer. 

“Are they family?” Beth added.

“No, they aren’t.” Molly looked around, straightening her bag on her shoulder. “Just a friend.”

“Hm, a friend.” Meena smirked then turned to the other two girls sitting next to her. “Have you noticed she avoids talking about them in a definite pronoun?” All three girls looked back at Molly with wide expectant eyes. “Molly, are you sharing a flat with a guy?” Meena asked gleefully.

Molly blushed, avoiding their eyes. 

The girls gasped almost simultaneously. 

“No way!” Joanna squealed.

“Give girl!” Meena crooned. 

“You’ve been holding out on us, girl!” Beth laughed.

Molly blushed some more. “Well, it’s a little complicated.”

“How can it be complicated, is he your boyfriend? A  _ sugar daddy? _ ”

“Meena!” Molly shot her a glare. “No, he isn’t my boyfriend. Just someone helping me out, when I thought I’d be homeless here. I'd missed filling-in the form for accommodation while applying and we didn’t learn about it until I came here for orientation. If not for Sherlock and him being willing to share his flat with me, I don’t know what I’d have done. So there, nothing special, just a friend helping a friend.”

"A  _ friend. _ " Meena tried again but Molly shot her another end-of-discussion glare.

The girls sobered a little under her stern gaze.

“I’m-”

“Well hello, ladies,” a voice called from their side and they all turned to see who had approached them. 

It was a tall, young man, well built, with dark hair and grey-blue eyes.

“Let me welcome you all here on our infamous campus!” he said in a jovial tone with a wide toothy grin. 

“And you are?” Meena asked suspiciously. 

The guy straightened a little, giving them a well practiced, winning smile. “Sebastian Wilkes, third year, Administration and Finances.” 

“Ah, Meena Thomson.”

“Joanna Zielinsky”

“Molly Hooper.”

“Beth Smith.” 

The newcomer nodded at each of the girls. “Nice to meet you, ladies. As I was saying, I'd love to introduce you to the campus life,” he gave them all another huge, toothy grin, “and extend to all of you an invite to a party this Friday. Hottest thing on campus.” His smile widened even more.

“Oh, wow, thanks!” Joanna said in an excited voice. 

“Yeah, that is great!” Meena agreed. 

Sebastian’s smile only widened, then he turned to Molly who was standing next to him. 

“Say, lovely, maybe you’d like to go as my date?” He smiled confidently at her.

Molly pursed her lips. “Thanks but no thanks.”

Sebastian’s face fell. “Whyever not?” he asked flatly. 

Molly just raised her eyebrows and looked at the girls sitting next to them then back at the upperclassman. “I’ve heard of you,” she said simply. 

Sebastian frowned. “Yeah, from who?” 

Molly crossed her arms in front of her chest. “From my flatmate.”

“And how would she know me?” He gave her a suspicious look. 

Molly smirked. “Not a she, but  _ he _ and he shared a hall with you for five terms.”

Sebastian frowned again. “Hm, really? And who would that be?”

“Sherlock Holmes,” Molly delivered with a smirk. 

Sebastian scowled. “ _ Him _ ? What are you doing with a creep like him? He’s a freak. He looks at you and starts spouting off things about you.”

“Were they unflattering?” Molly raised one eyebrow. “Because he only tells it how he sees it and he sees the truth.”

“Like hell he does,” he growled at her before giving the sitting girls a narrow-eyed look, then he straightened, smiling filtriously, and nodded at them. “The invitation stands.” He looked back at Molly with a grimace. “You can also come, as long as  _ he _ doesn’t. Not that has he ever done in the past.”

“I doubt he  _ or _ I will,” Molly said haughtily. 

Sebastian scowled once more and stalked off in a huff. 

“So what did your flatmate tell you about this guy?” Beth asked with a somber look on her face. 

“Yeah, he seemed nice and was handsome,” Joanna added, her eyes following the guy as he disappeared behind a corner. 

Molly shrugged her shoulders. “That he’s a womanizer and sleeps around, proud of his conquests.” 

“Ah,” Meena said, “that sort of guy.”

Molly just nodded. 

“And your flatmate, can he really tell all of that from just looking at you?” Meena watched Molly carefully.

Molly shrugged. “Yeah, he observes and notices all these little clues.”

“Neat.” Beth grinned. 

Meena looked sceptical though. 

Molly hesitated. “You know what? Why don’t you come to ours next week and you’ll be able to tell yourself what Sherlock's really like.”

“Just tell us where and when.” Beth winked. Meena pursed her lips while Joanna smiled. 

“I’ll let ya know tomorrow. Now I gotta dash! Bye girls!”

“See ya!” they all called as Molly rushed out of the building to catch her bus. 

xxxxx

“Why are we even going to this party?” Sherlock whined but, nevertheless, followed Molly to the nearest building, where some kind of loud, blaring music could be heard coming from within. 

Molly looked back at him with a mischievous smile. “Because you can’t be sitting in front of your microscope all the time!” she called in a singsong voice. 

Sherlock scowled at her back. “I like it and it’s way more productive than gatherings like that one over there.”

Molly twirled on her heel to face him, walking backwards. “Well, it's a late New Year's Eve celebration party.”

Sherlock frowned, “How can it be a New Year’s Eve celebration party when it is already the middle of January?”

Molly just giggled, “Any reason for a party is a good reason, I guess.” She turned back but shot him a look over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling. “You can definitely dance there and I know you like to dance.” 

“I doubt it will be those kinds of dances we did at your Graduation Ball.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. 

Molly just laughed once more. “You won’t know, if you don’t come.” Then she shot him a pointed glare. “Plus, you promised me!” 

True, after his latest bound of deductions during one of her many study sessions with her friends, he was on some kind of probation. Considering she, mostly, provided the edible food at their flat, he tried to stay on her good side. Plus, she’d decided to withhold making his favourite ginger nuts cookies for the time being, so he decided he’d better comply with her wishes. He scowled at her back once more. It wasn’t his fault that one of her friends didn’t know how to use protection. 

He stalked after her. “I am coming, aren’t I? Let’s see what the hype is about.” 

Molly beamed at him. “Consider it a learning experience. It may come in handy for your detective work later on.” She waited for him to join her and took his hand to drag him inside the building.

“Hm. We’ll see,” was his last reply as the vibrating bass of the latest trendy song hit them full force. 

xxx

“Are you having a good time?” Meena shouted to Molly over the loud, fast beat music. 

Molly squinted then grinned. “Yeah, it is loud though.” She giggled and looked at her empty bottle,  _ Oops, maybe I drank that last beer a little too quickly _ . She smiled lopsidedly.

Beth laughed at her as she presented them with another set of ales. “That’s what happens at these kind of parties.” She raised one of the glasses, “Cheers, girls!” and took a hefty gulp. 

“I still can’t believe Joanna dropped out,” Meena said, putting down her glass, the music lowering somewhat into manageable tones, allowing them to talk a little. 

Molly squirmed in her place, trying to avoid looking at either of the girls. 

Beth squinted at her. “You know something, Molly,” she said accusingly. 

Molly squirmed some more. “Noooo, not really.” A nervous giggle escaped her lips.

“Oh, no, that was  _ so _ convincing.” Meena leaned forward. “Give!”

“I don’t know anything,” Molly tried once more. 

Beth frowned in thought. “Hadn’t she come to you the week before she dropped out?”

Molly tried to avoid their eyes.

“Molly!” 

Then with a sigh, Molly gave each of the girls a hard look. “She has some personal issues,” she said in a final tone of voice.

Beth blinked but Meena leaned over, concern written all over her face. “Oh, something serious?” 

“She’s going to be a mum,” the fourth voice joined the conversation.

“Sherlock!” Molly scolded as all three girls looked up to see him leaning over their table. 

“What?” He looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. 

Molly got up and glared at him, arms akimbo. “She didn’t want to tell anyone else!” 

Sherlock straightened, looking slightly alarmed by Molly’s hostility. “But-”

“No,” she said firmly, pointing her fingers at his face. “Shut up. Not a sound.” She glared at him a second longer. “I’m gonna get a drink.” And with that, she stalked off toward the bar. 

Meena shook her head at him. “You fluked this one up royally.” 

Sherlock just huffed and stalked off in the opposite direction. 

xxx

Molly giggled as she waved goodbye to her dancing partner, her cheeks flushed, eyes shining. She grinned at Beth, who had just come to the table with her, while Meena looked after their bags and drinks. 

“Your boyfriend is jealous,” Meena called in a singsong voice, pointing her head towards the other side of the dancing floor. 

Molly followed her gaze and scowled. Sherlock was leaning over the opposite wall, glaring at her. “He’s not my boyfriend.” 

Meena raised her eyebrows. “Really? I could have sworn he had just spent the last few songs sulking over there while watching your moves with that handsome blond.”

Molly just rolled her eyes. “He just likes to dance. And I suppose I promised him we would.”

Meena snickered. “Oh, I’m  _ sure _ he wants to  _ dance _ with you, alright.” 

Molly flushed. “Meena!”

Meena, way into her beers already, giggled some more and winked at Beth. 

“You sure he didn’t steal your dorm application form to get you to live with him?” the other girl asked teasingly. 

Molly rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Beth, besides the form was found behind a chest of drawers in my room over Christmas break, it must have fallen there during the summer.”

“ _ Sure _ . Accidentally fallen behind a chest of drawers. How  _ convenient _ .” Meena wriggled her eyebrows and Beth giggled. 

Molly just sighed. They always got like this when they were drunk, making suggestions and innuendos, even though she always told them there was nothing but friendship between her and Sherlock. “Seriously, girls-”

A hand grabbed Molly’s, interrupting her.

“What do you _ think _ -” she started, turning around, ready to slap the face of-

“Sherlock!”

He tugged her hand a little so she faced him properly. “Come dance with me,” he said, giving her a burning look.

“What?” she blurted, spellbound by his mesmerising eyes, locked with hers. 

“Let’s dance,” he purred, a lazy smirk slowly creeping up his face. “Show them some real moves.”

Molly searched his eyes as they implored her to agree, then she smiled and nodded her acquiescence.

The last thing she heard was Meena saying “Not my boyfriend, my arse!”

xxxxx

“Hi, Sherlock!” Molly called as she entered the flat. “Meena and Beth are coming today for a study session. We have a big test next week and want to prepare together. The professors weren't joking about the summer term!” she said seriously as she turned to put her books in her room.

“Hm?” Sherlock hummed, focused on his experiment. He made some notes on the side then looked through his microscope. 

Molly returned, stepping into the kitchen.

Sherlock blinked at her. “Oh, Molly, you’re back, were you saying anything?”

Molly sighed but smiled at him, nonetheless. “Yes, the girls are coming this evening. We have a test to prepare for.” She moved to pour herself a glass of orange juice.

Sherlock frowned. “I see.” He started gathering his notes and putting away his experiment. “I’m going out then.”

Molly turned around quickly, half empty glass in her hand. “You don’t have to.” She looked at him, surprised. 

“Mm,” he hummed non committedly, looking around for any of his remaining stuff. “You will have free rein of the flat.”

“Sherlock…”

He gave her a fixed smile. “No worries. I have something to do.”

“You sure?”

“Yup,” he called without turning back as he headed toward his room.

“Oh, alright then.” Molly watched him, puzzled.

xxx

Sherlock walked aimlessly around their neighbourhood, a hoodie on his head. He avoided the few others like him wandering the streets, then hunched his shoulders with another huff.

Molly had been quite excited about the university. And to be honest, so had he. He would never admit it, but he had been looking forward to Molly joining him at the campus, even if in a different institute. She had dived into the preparations with quite the ferocity, often asking him questions about one thing or another during the summer hols they had spent once again in their hometown. Sherlock had found himself unexpectedly indulging her exuberance even if, more often than not, he’d been ostensibly rolling his eyes at her. Molly had taken it all in stride with her usual cheerfulness and a knowing smile. Her excitement had helped him look at the uni in a new positive light and he had been hoping--

He wasn’t sure what he had been hoping for. 

Definitely not this. 

He stopped and took out a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it up.

Molly, being Molly, had made friends on her first day. He didn’t mind that, not really, and the girls weren’t  _ that _ horrible, they tolerated him well enough. Although, after the hiccup with the pregnant one, he tried to avoid their gatherings whenever possible, just to be sure. He liked his ginger nuts to be available all the time, thank you very much. But the more time Molly spent with her friends, the less she had for their own experiments. Even sharing a flat didn’t give them much time for those. She was either at the library, or with the girls shopping; she even went to some of the uni parties! 

He took a drag of his cigarette and let the smoke sit in his lungs for a few seconds then slowly breathed it out.

It hadn’t been planned, the flat sharing. Molly had wanted to experience life at halls as any student, the independence and camaraderie , the  _ fun _ , despite Sherlock’s sneering comments about it. But it was not to be. And, having been afraid she’d burst into tears in her distress when she learned there was no room for her, he had blurted that she could share with him if she wanted. Not ideal, but not as problematic as he’d feared either. He was just glad his mother refrained from telling him  _ I told you so _ .

He took another drag of his cigarette. 

He tried to crash Molly’s courses to see if there was anything of interest to learn, but too many of them were as disappointing as his own. Not keeping up with the latest research, using old fashioned methodology, not being able to teach at all. And then, after one of his rants, Molly told him to shut it, or she’d tell the teachers about his unsolicited presence in the lecture halls. At his offended look she proclaimed she wanted to learn! The nerve of her! all he was doing was pointing out what was wrong, did she want to learn from inferior materials?! But he knew Molly, and he knew she would be checking and cross checking them to make sure she learned the best and newest theories and practices. 

However, that had left him with not much to do. His ideas for experiments were slowly running out, he was already able to pass this year exams as if they were being held tomorrow rather than in a few weeks, so not much to learn there, and he tried to stay on Molly’s good side for the time being, so no bothering her about looking together for a case to solve.

God, was he  _ bored _ .  _ So so _ bored. 

Sherlock snubbed out the cigarette and threw it away. He put his hands in his pockets and paused.

There was something inside one of them.

He took out a piece of paper and read the name and address on it. He had met the guy during that blasted post New Year's Eve party months ago. He had been glowering at Molly making some moves on the dancing floor with that inept blond, when the guy - Sam, as he remembered and now the card proclaimed - had slid next to him and struck a conversation with him. A conversation which had ended with this piece of paper having been slipped to him and a promise having been made. A promise of something interesting if Sherlock had ever found himself bored well enough. 

Well, he was bored well enough. 

And the place was not that far off from where he was wandering around now. 

He walked there briskly, then stopped on the other side of the road to observe the innocuous house. He had run into the guy a couple of times since that party, but they had never really talked, just a nod of acknowledgement. Sherlock had never cared for that  _ glint _ in the other guy’s eyes. 

He looked at his watch. Molly’s study session had just started and would last for hours. There was nothing better to do. He squared his shoulders and walked up to the front door. Finally, he knocked and waited. 

It was Sam who opened the door. He looked Sherlock up and down, then his mouth slowly curled into a  _ knowing _ smile. He looked Sherlock in the eyes and opened the door wider in invitation. 

With a stiff nod, Sherlock took the step in…

...and unknowingly walked into his very first doss house. 

xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun. Dun. Dun.  
> With this, we are moving from fluff to more interesting things :P  
> Drama.  
> Angst.  
> All the fun! :P  
> But first, please let me know what you think of this chapter! :)


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